


Don't Want it Troubling Your Mind

by crimsxnflxwerz



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Demonic Possession, Demons Made Them Do It, Existential Crisis, Feelings, Gen, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Panic Attacks, Possession, but no one had this fic the way i wanted so, i blame ink, im sorry i keep updating the tags but, is that something i need to tag, it needs to be done, look what you made me do, probably, rating may change but probably not, tbh, wow i told myself i wouldn't write a buzzfeed fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-01-20 04:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12424986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsxnflxwerz/pseuds/crimsxnflxwerz
Summary: Shane Madej really liked Ryan Bergara. He was funny, a joy to mess with, and took his brand of teasing pretty well. He would consider him a friend, kind of. But when the team goes to investigate the Franklin Castle for ghosts, Shane gets more than he bargained for, and the results could cost him his friendship with Ryan.





	1. lose my mind

**Author's Note:**

> hi, this is my first buzzfeed fanfic so go easy on me plz. I'll probably update weekly. Or sooner, lol.

Shane did not believe in the supernatural.

The most ridiculous thing that he believed in was Bigfoot, and maybe aliens, but both of those things were iffy at best. There was no real proof of anything, and if nothing else, he believed in physical proof. Something he can look at, maybe even touch, preferably something not only he can see. Shane considered most ghost sighting to be a falsity. Although, he had no doubt that some of those people actually saw ghosts. The brain is a powerful thing, and if you’re in the wrong state of mind, it can provide you with some pretty fucked up shit.

You see, all of it, yes even the stuff they feel and experience onset, the weird stuff picked up in their audio, and the blurs in their photographs, can be explained by science. At least in his opinion.

Shane never really had any reason to believe in the supernatural. He wasn’t afraid of most things. The dark was just dark. Old houses were just old. Graveyards were just lonely.

That’s why he joined Buzzfeed: Unsolved, though. He wasn’t against being exposed to the supernatural. And Ryan seemed like an okay guy, someone he could banter with, toss around weightless insults, and just have fun. And the content of the show was interesting. He’s always been a history guy, so he figured it’d be fun to learn about things that maybe aren’t text book worthy, but still history nonetheless.

He just wanted to have fun.

He didn’t believe in the supernatural.

Until today, that is.

Franklin Castle, built in 1881 by Cudell & Richardson for Hannes Tiedemann, a German immigrant. The house witnessed many deaths, some rumored to be more than meets the eye. Tiedemann is said to have hung his illegitimate daughter, Karen, when she was 13. Between the time that Tiedemann died and left the house abandoned to current, many people have come and gone from the residence. More have been rumored to have died there, since it was briefly home to a doctor, and also some squatters later on.

Currently, the house was crippled by a fire, its exterior mostly in-tact, but it’s interior all but destroyed. It’s not uncommon for the locations to be a little rundown, but something about the place just gave Shane the creeps. Many people lived and died in this house. Not all the rumors are facts, but not all the facts are accounted for. They say it’s the most haunted house in Ohio, and it might even make the list of most haunted in America.

“First impressions?” Ryan asked, holding up a camera to the looming house. He looked so small in front of it. Shane felt small in front of the house, too. It wasn’t even that big. It was as if it’s history was filling the cracks, stretching out the mold, lifting the building like a boy standing on his toes to appear taller. There was a life to the house that he couldn’t quite explain. He felt a shiver run through him, and he tried not to look as unnerved as he felt.

“Yikes,” Shane said, a mock fear expression on his face. Ryan laughed, grinning. “We have to sleep here, right?”

Ryan nodded enthusiastically. “I know I say this every time, but I have a good feeling about this house. Well, not good like I want to be here, but good like we’re gonna see a gh— “

“Ahh, no.” Shane cut him off, but Ryan didn’t look dissuaded. “I mean, we would, if ghosts were real.”

He received a vexed side-eye from his friend, but otherwise Ryan brushed the tease off. He looked back at the rolling cameras and gave them a playful thumbs-up. After he turned around, Shane stepped into shot and gave a thumbs-down.

They made their way to the front steps, observing the front before entering. The house was built out of stone, so it makes sense that it had survived a fire. It was beautifully crafted, as far as Shane could tell. He wasn’t an architect, but even he could see that this house was meant to be grand. He’s seen bigger houses, but this house had character.

“Should we knock?” Ryan asked, having lifted his hand to push the door open, but aborting that plan at the last second.

“Why would we knock?” Shane said, his question ending with a smart scoff. “No one lives here.”

“Yeah, but,” Ryan worried his bottom lip, a nervous habit. Shane couldn’t believe he was nervous. They were literally still standing on the front steps. “Bloody Mary said it’s respectful.”

“Oh, yeah, she did,” Shane said. He did agree with the sentiment. Although, his whole M.O. was to get spirits angry enough to push him around. Did he really want to go around respecting them now? “But since there are no spirits… the knocks will go unheard.”

Ryan rolled his eyes with a small smirk and knocked on the door three times. They waited a second, to see if anything would happen, maybe a knock back or something. When nothing happened, they entered cautiously. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Shane felt a cold chill run through him. Which was weird, since the temperature wasn’t too bad outside, and with no air conditioning, he expected the place to be sweltering. Ryan, Shane, and the camera guys spread out to find the best places to film, and to just explore in general before any real scenes were shot. Ryan immediately headed for a back room, the crew looked around more open spaces for camera placements, but Shane was curious about another area of the house. Right off the entryway, there was a narrow staircase. It looked like it used to be blocked off by a door, but now it sat wide open, the bottom of the stairs darkened to black.

While he was peering down into the dark, he felt a presence at his back. Turning around, he expected to see Ryan there trying to spook him, but the space behind him was completely empty. He scratched his head, shrugging to himself. He could just be feeling a bit more paranoid that normal. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted that Egg McMuffin…

Turning back around, he descended into the basement. Now, Shane has been in some pretty unruly basements. Flooded, fire damaged, caved in, etc, and they’ve all been pretty freaky, but something about this one really took the cake. Above him, he heard the others wandering around, and it created such an ominous ambiance that he considered immediately leaving. He kept his cool, however, and wandered further in. While peering into an empty closet, he felt the presence from earlier again. This time, though, he ignored it. He continued on, moving stuff and turning over some objects. There were lots of random pieces of wood that appeared to have been scorched, probably from the fire. While he was wiping some dust off of a table with his index finger, a pair of clammy hands slid onto his shoulders. He jumped, but didn’t scream, as his voice was caught in his throat. He turned around as fast as he could, but no one was there. His heart pounded in his chest.

He had really felt that. Those hands, cold as ice, solid as the ground under his feet. Trying not to panic, he man his way back upstairs. He kept glancing backwards, to make sure the presence wouldn’t appear again, and ended up running full-bodied into Ryan, knocking him back a bit. He hadn’t realized how fast he was moving until he was suddenly stopped.

“Dude, what the hell?” Ryan said, brushing off his clothes, as if Shane had somehow got him dirty from running into him. “Were you just running?”

“U-uh, no, I was not.” Shane stuttered, his voice quieter than normal. He cleared his throat. “I usually run up the steps. Just because I can. You know, long legs and stuff.” He paused. “Oh wait, you wouldn’t know.”

Ryan shoved Shane’s shoulder. “Har har, very funny, Shane.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not short!”

“Sure you aren’t,” Shane said. He already felt a little less freaked out after some simple banter. Something had definitely touched him. He had never felt a touch so clear in his life. It was as if the fingers were sinking their cold flesh into his, melding together, becoming a single entity. It chilled him to his very bones.

Of course, he wouldn’t tell Ryan.

What Ryan believed in was playful, really. Harmless, left behind, a soul just craving company. What Shane had felt was a monster. A being filled with ice, dark as night, and about as friendly as a rabid animal. Basically, if he could avoid going into the basement again, he would be very happy.

“Did you explore the basement without me?” Ryan asked. Shane stiffened.

“Oh, there’s nothing to see down there.” He said, but even he didn’t believe himself.

Ryan narrowed his eyes at him. He knew there was something Shane wasn’t telling him, or well Shane got that vibe from him. Ryan was surprisingly good at reading people, as it turned out. Shane liked to think of himself as a closed book, but he was as open as it gets. He was a book with the cover torn off. There was no hiding the things he felt. He rarely tried to hide things anyways, since he knew how bad at it he was.

“Well, we’ll find out about that soon enough,” he said, letting the subject drop. Shane relaxed. He wasn’t prepared to go right back down there anyways.

The two of them entered the foyer where the two camera guys had set everything up. They stood where they were told was the best shot, and began filming. They talked about the various happenings in the house, including the death of Karen, who was suspected to have been hung by a rope from a doorframe in the basement. They say her ghost haunts the place, dressed from head to toe in black. Others, however, believe that something else has occupied the house. With so much negative energy, some have believed the house to have attracted demons.

At the news, Shane outwardly rolled his eyes with a chuckle. On the inside, however, he was seriously considering it. The thing he felt in the basement was no 13-year-old girl. Those hands were not human. What if this time, just this once, those freaky paranormal fanboys were right? What if this place did host a demon of some kind.

Shane had to clock out for a moment. Did he even believe in God? Wasn’t that like a precursor to believing in demons? Or where demons their own thing? The thoughts in his head spun around, doing nothing but confusing him even more. A hand shook him out of it.

“Hey, are you even listening?” Ryan asked. When Shane looked over at Ryan with a dazed look on his face, Ryan just snickered. “I guess that’s a no.”

“I just thought I could let my mind wander while you rambled about spirits and demons and whatnot.” He joked. Ryan shoved him, laughing.

“Hey, one day you’ll actually see a ghost, and you’ll regret all the teasing!”

Shane scoffed, but it had no energy in it.

After another bought of talking, they two of them looked into some bedrooms. They were all basically cleared out at some point in the game of hot potato the house went through for several years. There were still some furnishings though, like decorative lighting, and fireplaces. Shane ran his hand along the ledge of a window, his hand stopped at a small carving in the wood. It just looked like a bunch of random, curving lines, but something about it was a bit odd. Curious, he snapped a photo of it, maybe he’d look it up later.

Eventually, they made their way downstairs and back on the ground floor. They collected in the main room and discussed how they felt, if they saw anything strange on their own, or wanted to add anything to the film.

“Doesn’t it feel a bit too cold in here to be normal?” Ryan asked, looking around at everyone in the room, but mostly Shane. He knew the man would have something dumb to say, so he braced himself.

“Actually, yeah, I was expecting it to be stuffy and warm in here.” Shane said, rubbing an ache out of his shoulder. Ryan’s mouth opened slightly in shock at the statement.

“So, you actually agree that it’s weird?” Ryan asked. His shock turned into a casual smirk, this was a victory in his book. Shane looked at him, then looked away, then looked back. He looked like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

“Well maybe the sun doesn’t really get in to warm the place up—”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Ryan laughed. “Sure, Shane. The sun just doesn’t get in.”

“It could be!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryan’s laughter died off slowly, especially since the next place to explore was probably the scariest place in the whole house. “Next is the basement. Excited?”

“I said there was nothing in the basement,” Shane said instead, feeling that same panic he had felt earlier return full-force. He remembered the symbols carved into the windowsill, and the odd presence, and the cold fingers, and it really made his stomach knot uncomfortably. He took a moment to realize how much of a wuss he was being. “I mean, there’s just a bunch of spiders and gross stuff down there. It’s not that exciting.”

“Well, we’re gonna go down so we can get some good shots of the place,” Ryan said, starting to head over there. Shane felt his heart leap into his throat, so he said nothing back, only nervously eyed both of the cameramen with them. They gave him a weird look and motioned for him to follow Ryan. He blinked once, slowly, and finally went along.

As they neared the entrance to the basement, he could have sworn the room temperature dropped about ten degrees. His whole body felt stiff and cold, so he rubbed his hands together.

“Wait,” Ryan suddenly stopped, turning around to look at Shane. “Are you scared?”

“W-what? Why would I be scared?” Shane said, fumbling on his words. Wow, he felt really cold. “It’s just chilly in here.”

“Man, I’ve never seen you so tense,” Ryan teased.

“You’re just stalling!” Shane said. “I’m not scared of anything. Well, except that one thing…”

“Yeah we all know your irrational heroin fear.” Ryan laughed, turning back around to descend the steps, flicking his flashlight on in the process.

“Hey! At least heroin and needles are real,” Shane said, joking. He hesitated a bit, watching Ryan’s light moving down carefully, as if the steps would collapse at any moment. He hadn’t even really thought about that, actually. The house has gone through some renovation, but for the most part it was really old. What had Ryan told him, 1881? That’s over a century.

“Be careful,” Shane all but whispered as he followed his friend down. He wasn’t really sure if the whisper was for Ryan, or for himself.

After they were all situated in the basement, the camera guys said they were going to go get something from the car. Ryan waved them off, and went about snooping around with his flashlight and camera. Shane nervously stood near the bottom of the stairs after he heard the front door close upstairs. Somewhere in the dark, Ryan sneezed.

“You were right, dude, it’s really dusty and stuff down here.” He said.

“Yeah,” Shane replied, looking around nervously. It was getting later in the day, and with that came the dimming of natural light. Where he could have navigated fairly easily earlier, he could not now without his flashlight. He kind of wished he had a lantern. A large lantern. Large enough to light up the entire room, preferably.

He could feel it again. The presence. It was a cool breeze in a basement with no windows. It was a leering body peering over his shoulder. He turned his head to look over his shoulder. Nothing. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He moved towards where Ryan was currently snooping around in an old chest, but something stopped him dead in his tracks.

All at once, it felt very, very hot. The heat started in his chest, spreading through his body with every pound of his heart. Every part of him burned, from his toes to his fingertips. But as soon as it had come, it had gone, and was replaced with a deep chill. He raised his hands without thinking about it, as if someone else was controlling his body. He swallowed, and his throat felt like sandpaper, his head throbbed like someone just hit him with a brick. His grip on his camera and flashlight became weak, and they slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor.

At the noise, Ryan jumped, turning around to see what the commotion was about. He saw Shane, standing very still, looking down at his hands. It was too dark to see his face, his flashlight having gone out when it hit the floor.

“Shane?” Ryan asked, his voice hesitant. Shane could barely hear him. Blood was roaring in his ears, a pitched ringing filled his head, like the sound you hear following a gunshot. After a moment, a tingling filled his body, and everything slowed to a crawl. Shane raised his head with some effort, only to see a black shadow standing between him and Ryan. The shadow approached, growing in size as it got closer. Closer and closer until the shadow was all he could see. The ringing became impossibly louder, the tingling grew painful. He opened his mouth to scream—

And then it all stopped.

“Shane!” Ryan said, grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking. Everything felt normal again. His body was fine, his head was fine, he was fine. _He was fine_. “Hey! What was that all about? You really had me scared!”

“Well, that’s not exactly hard to do,” Shane said, without thinking, just falling back into their usual banter. Ryan frowned, however, and his gaze grew softer.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Nothing’s wrong?” Ryan asked. Then his eyes widened. “You didn’t see a ghost, did you?”

“What? Of course, I didn’t see a ghost!” Shane said, shaking Ryan off, before bending down to get his things.

“Then why were you acting like that?” Ryan asked. Shane hesitated, fiddling with his flashlight a bit. It wouldn’t come on. Didn’t he just replace the batteries in this thing?

“I’m just… tired is all.” Shane said, and it was such an obvious lie that he winced as he said it. “Listen, it’s fine, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Ryan crossed his arms, but didn’t argue further on the subject. Soon, the cameramen were back inside with stuff for them to stay the night. As they set up, however, Shane felt an itch under his skin. Like something was there that wasn’t there before. Something dark and dangerous. He could only hope that everything would return to normal by morning. Until then, he hunkered down in a sleeping bag beside Ryan and forced himself to count sheep, until he slowly drifted off to sleep.

But as he was falling into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness, he could have sworn he heard a voice. A deep voice, smooth and soft, coming from somewhere deep inside him.

“ _Hello_ ,” it said. And then everything was black.


	2. burning up again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane meets a demon, gets scared by a ghost, and makes popcorn with Ryan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the mcmuffin is back, everybody. ....  
> also i wrote this insanely fast and im sorry if it makes zero sense.

When Shane woke, it was to gentle light filtering through the dirty windows, illuminating dust particles in the air and giving the entire room an ethereal feeling. In the quiet morning, Shane turned over in his sleeping bag so he could face towards Ryan, mostly to see if the other man was awake.

Ryan was curled up in his sleeping bag, his hair sticking up in odd directions, his mouth slightly open in a silent snore. Honestly, Shane thought it was kind of cute. Ryan no doubt exhausted himself yesterday, if not physically, then mentally. Sometimes he didn’t understand why the man would put himself through this kind of stress if he was so afraid of it. It couldn’t possibly be good for your health. 

Shane rolled back over, hoping to get a few more winks of sleep before the others woke and started packing it up. 

“ _Hello_ ,” a whispery voice greeted. Shane’s eyes went wide. Was someone… talking to him? He bolted into a sitting position, looking around frantically. The cameramen had gone to sleep in the car this time, so it was just him and Ryan in the house. No one was in the room with them.

“ _Hello_ ,” it came again, and now he could tell that the voice was coming from inside his own head. “ _What is your name?_ ”

Shane glanced over at Ryan, just to be sure this wasn’t some kind of elaborate prank for all the times he teased the man, or something else easily explainable. When no one jumped out at him shouting _prank’d!_ , he furrowed his brow in worry.

“ _It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me, I know who you are, Shane_ ,” the voice said. Whoever it was, their voice was deep, and smooth. Textured like honey, dark and thick. He couldn’t tell if it was malignant or not. At least not yet. “ _Shane Madej. It’s a nice name, rolls right off the tongue_.”

‘Who are you?’ Shane finally replied in his head. Maybe this was all just a weird dream, and if he played along, then it would end faster. Even though that wouldn’t make much sense, a man could hope.

“ _My name is Anael_.” It said. “ _A long time ago, I was summoned to the basement of this place. I’ve been here ever since._ ”

Shane let that information sink in. He recalled the image of the carving in his mind.

“ _Ah yes, that is my sigil,_ ” Anael said, responding to the thought like Shane had handed it a photograph. “ _Those who summoned me had not realized that I would actually arrive. Much like yourself, they also did not truly believe in the dimensions beyond. It was quite a shock for them to witness me_.”

‘Wait, so what are you exactly?’ Shane asked, laying back down in his sleeping bag. ‘And why can only I hear you? Wouldn’t you have more fun freaking out my buddy over there?’

“ _Ah, you mean Ryan Bergara_?” Anael said, without hesitation. “ _Well, you see, I’m a demon. I’ve lived for hundreds of thousands of years and scaring people who are easily scared… it can be fun for a little while, but it gets repetitive. I can probably guess what your friend would do if I spoke to him. His kind of character isn’t so special anymore._ ”

‘But I’m somehow special?’ Shane asked. He was honestly curious now. If this was a dream, it was very elaborate. He wondered if he should invest in a dream journal. ‘I don’t think I’m much different than Ryan. I have irrational fears just like him.’

“ _Ah, you see, that’s where you’re wrong._ ” Anael said. “ _You don’t believe that I’m real, even as we converse right now. You think I’m just a product of your exhausted mind. I can assure you, I am not a figment of your imagination_.”

‘Sounds like something a figment of my imagination would say.’ Shane though, humorously. Though, as he heard the demon sigh, he also felt himself repeat the action. He put a hand on his chest, and concentrated on his breathing for a few moments. Did he just sigh? Did the demon make him sigh at his own joke?

“ _Do you believe me now?_ ” Anael asked. There was a ring of confidence in its tone, as if it had already won him over. Shane rolled his eyes.

‘Like that, something that could have easily just been a coincidence, could prove that you’re real.’ Shane scoffed. ‘Also, one of my rules is that it can’t be something only I experience. What if you’re just a crazy delusion my mind conjured up? I haven’t been sleeping that well recently, maybe that’s it.’

After he said this, the voice mysteriously stopped. He looked over to the window, and saw that it was getting brighter and brighter outside. He checked his phone. 6:20 am. Maybe he should wake Ryan. He turned over to look at his friend once again, but Ryan had flipped over in his sleep and wasn’t facing him anymore. Wow, now he couldn’t even make fun of Ryan’s sleeping face.

He closed his eyes, and drifted off.

When he awoke once again, it was to his shoulder being shaken.

“C’mon Shane. Wakey, wakey. Let’s go!” Ryan said. He grinned down at Shane, dressed and ready to leave. Shane blinked sleepily. 

“What time is it?” he asked. His hand stretched out in blind search of his phone. 

“It’s 7:30! C’mon, we gotta film the outro.” Ryan insisted. “Oh, I heard there was a really good breakfast place nearby, you like waffles, right?”

They filmed the outro, packed everything up, and all got into the car. They stopped at a breakfast place and all crammed into a booth. After a few cups of coffee, the dead feeling seemed to lift off of Shane, and he finally felt more awake. 

“What did you think of the house?” One of the camera guys, Steve, said. “I thought it was freaky.”

“Oh yeah,” said the other camera guy, David. “Imagine living there.”

Ryan scratched the side of his head nervously. “It was really freaky there. I’m glad we’re finally out.” He paused, his eyes downcast. “I felt some really weird stuff in there. Like someone was always watching me. No matter where I was in the house.”

“Maybe you’re just paranoid,” Shane said, a small smile on his face. He sipped his coffee and Ryan glared at him, but his eyes held no heat. “Actually, I did actually feel a little freaked out there, too. Especially in the basement.”

Shane considered sharing his story about being visited by a demon, but backtracked and decided that some things are better left to himself. If the demon truly was just a dream, then maybe it wasn’t even worth mentioning. Although, he has got to admit, he’s never been able to recall a dream as vividly as this. It was almost like a demon had _actually_ spoken to him. 

How crazy would that have been?

“Is that why you acted so freaked out down there?” Ryan asked. He acted chill, but Shane could tell he was still seriously concerned about what happened. Shane didn’t have a reputation for taking mental health days, so if it wasn’t ghosts, it could easily be stress. 

“Yeah, just all around bad vibes down there,” Shane said. “Or maybe I ate something that didn't agree with me.”

“Yeah, cause food sickness makes you stand completely still and creepily stare at your hands.” Ryan agreed sarcastically. 

“Hey, no one really knows what’s in those Egg McMuffins.” Shane joked. The group laughed together, but he could tell that Ryan still hadn’t completely let it go.

After breakfast, Shane and Ryan met back at the office. They discussed where to go next, and who was gonna pick the questions to answer about the newest episode. 

Shane enjoyed these moments. Just chatting about their plans, no cameras around to tell them how to act. Don’t get it wrong, Shane loved acting and thought all the projects he did at Buzzfeed were fun and interesting. No doubt he loved his job, but he also loved just existing. Like everyone, he got a little stressed being on set for an extended period.

“Want to watch a movie at my place later? We can make popcorn.” Ryan suggested. 

“Heck yeah, dude.” Shane said. “What we watchin’?” 

“I dunno yet, but I heard about this one show...” Ryan continued talking, Shane eagerly listening. They made some quick notes about their next episode, before leaving the office behind.

“See you around six?” Ryan asked and they walked together into the parking lot. 

“Yeah sure.” Shane agreed, clapping a hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “Should I bring drinks?”

Ryan nodded, fishing in his pocket for his car keys. He pulled them out of his pocket, but as he did it, his wallet fell out onto the ground. 

“I got it,” Shane and Ryan said together, and reached down to grab it at the same time. Shane’s hand ended up on the wallet, Ryan’s hand on top of Shane’s. They awkwardly pulled away after, each avoiding the others gaze in embarrassment. 

“Uhhh, haha, here ya go,” Shane said, handing over the wallet. 

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” Ryan said, scratching behind his ear. 

“So... see you at six?” Shane asked, just in case Ryan had changed his mind.

“Y-yeah.” Ryan said. “Of course.”

“See you then.”

“See you.”

They parted ways and each got in their own cars. As soon as Shane found himself in his car, he gave a deep sigh. It had been a long day, anyone would be embarrassed by that, right? 

“ _Well, I would be embarrassed too if I accidentally grabbed someone’s hand.”_ A voice said. _“It does tend to get awkward, especially if it was unexpected.”_

Shane nearly bolted from his car at the unexpected noise. Looking frantically around, there was no one else there but him. He gripped his steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. 

Maybe he really _was_ exhausted. Maybe the shoot messed up his sleep cycles. Maybe he needed to take a nap before going to Ryan’s tonight.

“ _Did you already forget about me?_ ” The voice said, sounding a little pompous now. “ _Or did you think I would stay in the house? Thought you could just get rid of me?_ ” 

Shane bit down on his lip hard enough for it to hurt. He started the engine of his car. 

‘It’s not real. It’s not real.’ Shane said to himself. ‘Just ignore it. Just ignore the voice. You’re not crazy.’

“ _I’m right here, Shane._ ” The voice said again, but this time it was clearer. He felt a presence in the passenger seat, and quickly turned to face it. In the passenger’s seat was a shadowy figure. It seemed to take the basic shape of a human, though parts of it moved like a living shadow or a massive swarm of bees. Its face was masculine, when it was visible. A pair of piercing yellow eyes were distinguishable from the rest.

Shane suddenly felt hot and cold at the same time again. He wanted to open his car door and run away screaming, but he swallowed that fear and stood his ground. 

“Oh god, who the _fuck_ are you?” He managed to croak. “Or _what_ the fuck? I don’t fucking know.”

“ _Anael, don’t you remember, boy?_ ” It said. It was the same voice from his dream. He wasn't still dreaming, was he? Or maybe he’d fallen asleep again at some point?

“You are not real,” Shane said. “I am just hallucinating right now, because I need more sleep.”

“ _You know that you can only lie to yourself for so long._ ” Anael said. “ _I’m still going to be here.”_

Shane sighed and clenched his teeth. “Why me?” He muttered. “Because I’m the skeptic, right? I’m that one woman who can sing really well in _Elf_ that needs to be convinced that Santa’s real?”

The demon apparently had no sense of humor, because it didn’t laugh. Shane was mildly offended. His jokes were funny, damnit. Where was Ryan when he needed him?

“ _Ryan’s probably almost home by now,_ ” Anael said, having read his thoughts. “ _Why didn’t you just go over with him?_ ”

“Are you seriously just here to judge me on my plans with my friends?” Shane asked, exacerbated. He buckled his seat belt and started driving. 

“ _No, of course not_ ,” Anael said. “ _But since you love hanging out with him, then why not go home with him?_ ”

Shane was silent for a second. A whole second. The longest second of his life, actually. He considered what the demon had said. Really thought about it. 

“So, what kind of demon are you again?” Shane asked. “I don’t know shit about demons. I’m just curious.” 

Anael was curiously quietly. Shane came to a red light, and took the opportunity to look to the passenger’s seat. The demon was more human than before, taking on the shape of a man probably around his age. Shane could just make out the edge of his jaw, the dark curve of his lips, and the column of his neck. 

“ _I am Anael, demon of lust and longing_.” Anael said finally. Shane looked back to the road in time for the light to turn green. He felt the atmosphere in the car change. 

“Lust demon, eh?” He laughed. It was a nervous, cautious thing. “Tryin’ to set me up with Ryan, then?”

“ _Clever, boy,_ ” Anael admitted. “ _I feed on sexual energy and feelings_.”

Shane coughed. He wasn't sure what to say, so he just settled for blushing lightly in embarrassment.

“You know you’re not supposed to tell me your plan if you want it to work, right?” Shane said. Or maybe that was wishes on shooting stars? “Also, you’re basically shit outta luck, buddy. I don’t have those kinds of feelings for Ryan.”

The demon grinned then, impossibly, within the smoky abyss of its face. It teeth were clear as day. Sharp, gleaming menacingly.

“ _If you recall, I did say I was a demon of lust_.” Its voice was gravelly now. It made Shane’s blood go cold. “ _Humans are so easy to manipulate. Everyone wants something. It’s as natural a batting your eyes, the way humans crave things. We’ll see who wants what in time_.”

And with that, Anael was gone. Although, he could tell it wasn't truly gone. It wasn’t ever truly gone. Anael was watching, waiting- Shane shivered at the thought. Did it really want to force Ryan and him to—

Why him? Why couldn’t it attach itself to any other person. He bet there were plenty of people who wouldn't mind a demon watching them while they got frisky with their actual partner. It was probably some kind of kink, even. Maybe he could look it up later and let the demon know.

Like sure, Ryan was cute, he’ll give him that. With his nice laugh and casual fashion and small stature. Shane also thought puppies were cute, but he didn't want to fuck any puppies.

Although, he could see where the demon was coming from. Maybe he was one of those fuck boys who thought that Shane was just “hiding” his true nature or that he needed to be “fixed”. He remembered when he told his mother that he was taking a break from dating. He had meant to explain that it was too exhausting for him. He wasn't the most empathetic person, and dating involved a level of dedication that he couldn’t put in at the moment. In her head his mother heard, however, that her son was giving up on love altogether. And she just frowned sadly, patted his shoulder, and told him that he’d ‘ _find someone eventually_ ’. It was tiring, to say the least, to say something and have people interpret it as something else. Why couldn’t people just take his word for it?

Shane just didn’t feel the need to date like other people. Dating, hook-ups, what have you, he didn’t want any of it. Just a job, a place, some friends. Was that really so hard to understand?

It wasn't long after that, that he pulled into his apartment building lot. His phone buzzed. Stepping out of the car, he checked it to find a text. 

_Ryan: Documentary on aliens or Bigfoot?_

Shane walked up to the apartment building and up to the elevator. He texted back while waiting.

_Shane: what about that one Scooby Doo movie? You know, the weird live action one?_

He got in the elevator. Someone was in there, but they didn't get out. Which was weird, because they didn’t have a basement, and who would ride to the bottom to just go back up? Shane nodded at them anyways in greeting. They stared blankly ahead, not even bothering to acknowledge him. How rude.

He shook it off though, and pressed the button for his floor. 

“Floor?” He asked. The person remained mute. After an awkward moment of silence, he let the question drop. Maybe they were on the same floor as him. 

His phone buzzed.

_Ryan: lol but we already watched that._

The elevator dinged as it moved past each floor. He refused to look back at the weirdo again. His heart sped up a little in his chest. He thought about the murder mystery they went over about the guy getting tortured to death in a hotel. His apartment complex wasn’t a hotel, but still.

_Shane: what about mothman? There a documentary on that guy?_

The doors opened at his floor, and as he stepped into the hall, he looked back. 

No one was there.

Shane scrambled for his phone and hurried to his room.

_Shane: Ryan can I come over sooner than we planned?_

He unlocked his door and went in, slamming it shut and utilizing every lock. The rational part of his brain screamed that a locked door won’t keep out the devil. 

He crossed through his messy living room and into his bedroom. Without thinking, he threw a pair of clothes into a duffel bag with some other things and zipped it up. Tossing it over his shoulder, he received another text. It was from an unknown number.

_???: do not leave do not lea v do no tleav e do_

Shane shoved his phone into his pocket and practically ran from his apartment. Ditching the elevator, he went down the steps as fast as he could and dashed out to his car. A chill ran up his spine as he tossed his bag in the passenger’s seat. Once he was behind the wheel, he looked forward through his windshield and saw the person from the elevator standing near the front door. 

His heart pounded as he pealed out of the lot. His phone went off a few times. He ignored it. 

He was in the driveway of Ryan’s townhouse before he knew it. After he killed the engine, he simply took a moment and sat there. His heart was beating a mile a minute against his chest. He was scared for his life. He felt like he was about to puke. 

He checked his phone.

_Ryan: Ohh, mothman? He’s just cryptic, evil batman._

_Ryan: Yeah sure, man. Something wrong?_

_Ryan: Shane?_

_Ryan: ???_

Shane figured he might as well just go up and knock. Why text him when he was sitting in the man’s driveway. A hot coal sat in his stomach. A tight, heavy coil of fear and nerves. He opened the car door, grabbed his bag, and stepped out.

Before he could make it to the door, however, it opened for him. Ryan stood in his way, a surprised look on his face. It quickly turned to worry, however, especially when he noticed the duffle bag at Shane’s side.

“Dude, what happened?” He asked. He crossed his arms. Shane could still feel his body vibrating from fear and adrenaline. He closed his eyes for a long moment, drew in a sigh, and let it out slow. 

“The last place we went to...” he hesitated. He didn’t want to freak out Ryan. He wouldn’t wish this feeling on his worst enemy. “It sort of freaked me out. I don’t want to be a bother though, if you really don’t want me here.”

Ryan shook his head. “No, no, no, come on in, dude. We can make popcorn, I’ve got soda. It’ll be chill.” He gestured to the bag. “Are you staying over?”

“Again,” Shane rubbed the back of his neck. “If it’s too much of a bother, or if you had plans, I could just go back home...”

“No, seriously,” Ryan said. He stepped aside for Shane to come in. “Just come in. I’ll start the popcorn.”

Shane gave a big smile and sheepishly made his way inside. The townhouse was two levels: living space on the main floor, bedrooms upstairs. It was a mostly open floor plan, the walkway blending into the kitchen blending into the living room. Behind the couch was a staircase. He dropped his bag next to the couch and meandered to the stove where Ryan was pouring some popcorn kernels and oil into a pan. 

“So, anything in particular freak you out?” Ryan asked. He turned the burner on and leaned against the counter.

“The basement,” he said before he could stop himself. “Not that i believe in ghosts or whatever, but that was a freaky basement. I can see a horrible man hanging his daughter there.”

“Yeah, when you freaked out down there I swore you were pulling my leg,” he said. “But you weren’t?”

“Yeah, I mean, I think it was exhaustion. Sometimes, you just shut down, you know?” Shane said. He must’ve looked nervous though, since then Ryan reached out and gently grabbed his arm. 

“Hey, if you ever do see something, and you’re scared,” Ryan said, “It’s okay. It’s okay to be scared.”

There was a moment, with Ryan’s hand on his arm, that he felt so grounded. Like he was a balloon, and Ryan was the weight, keeping him tethered to the Earth. He felt himself relax so quickly in Ryan’s presence. Now that he thought about it, why did he go to Ryan? Was is because they already had plans? Maybe because they had both be chilled in that house? Or maybe it was something more, something deep in his bones, that told him to go to Ryan. Something that was trying to push him closer to Ryan. He feared that it was the demon’s influence. Even though, deep down, Shane still didn’t believe that the demon was entirely real. He could have made it all up. Finally broken down after all those sleepless nights, all those ghost stories rubbing off on him.

“Yeah, I know,” Shane said, smiling softly. “Thanks. I promise to tell you if somethings wrong, okay?”

“Okay.” Ryan smiled back, then turned his attention to the stove when the kernels started popping.

As the scent of popped corn wafted through the kitchen, they chatted about mothman, and if he was just a collective scapegoat that the city blamed instead of believing whatever really happened. They laughed, simply enjoying each other’s company. They divided the snack into two bowls and seasoned them to their liking. When Ryan left to go put the movie on the television, Shane stayed behind for a moment, watching his friend’s back as he walked away. His smile fell a little.

“ _Don’t you want this?_ ” a voice said, very quietly, in the back of his head. He blinked, hesitant, his chest felt a little weird. After a moment, he went to go join Ryan on the couch.

‘I don’t know.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just like before, criticism is welcome. the story is unbeta'd. mistakes will be made.


	3. won't you let me be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> demons are real. shane and ryan fight. sara is a good friend (tm).

In the middle of their third movie, this one was about strange disappearances, Ryan fell asleep. His head was resting heavily upon Shane’s shoulder. It was a weight that felt strangely nice. Shane nudged a popcorn bowl with his foot that they’d set on the floor, and leaned his head back against the couch. He heard the voice of the narrator on the television saying something about a man who disappeared in Mexico, but he wasn’t really paying much attention anymore.

He thought about how Ryan would probably have a supernatural explanation for this one too. Like the girl who drowned in the hotel water supply, that was a poltergeist, not just a tragic accident. It was almost like Ryan couldn’t really accept that sometimes those things happened. People died, and sometimes we can’t explain why. If this was a time before medicine, he’s sure Ryan would have a supernatural explanation for cancer, for heart attacks, or mental illness. Everyone did, at the time.

He guessed though, that some of those things were real, with his new-found evidence. He had half a mind to ask Anael about the girl at the hotel, or the man in Mexico, or maybe even D.B. Cooper. A part of him, though, wanted to keep it all a mystery. It was more fun that way, he thought. Yeah, they looked at unsolved cases, and yeah, they made him question things a little bit, but ultimately, he stood by what he had said before. He was okay with them being unsolved. It’s so exhausting to go through life trying to solve everything. There wasn’t always an answer, and that was the truth.

He felt Ryan shift a little into him with a soft mutter. He moved his arm so he could put it on the back of the couch, to keep it from getting crushed between them. With his other arm, he grabbed the folded blanket Ryan had taken out for him earlier, and spread it over them.

As the voice on the television droned on, Shane felt himself drifting off. He was warm, and comfortable, and he needed a good rest.

_In his dream, he’s hot. He takes off his shirt and starts unbuttoning his pants when he realizes that the heat isn’t coming from the air around him, it’s coming from inside him. He’s not sure what to do, watching his skin as it rapidly dries up, blood rushing through him, his body blushing in awkward patches. He curls up in a ball, breathing heavily. Even his breath scorches his throat._

_From behind him, a pair of hands grab his shoulders. They’re cold as ice, and where the hot and cold skin meet, steam billows out. He turns to face the person touching him, but the steam is thick and white and he can’t see through it._

_He blinks. He finds himself in a bedroom. It’s a dark blue, light peeking in from the moon illuminating strips over various furniture and clutter. He’s sitting on the bed there, his face turned to the side, watching a body cast in shadow. His own body moves on its own, leaning in towards the figure, and kissing them delicately. The figure lets it happen for a moment, before pushing him back an inch._

_“No,” and it’s sounds like Ryan. But why would he be kissing Ryan? His head hurts, his chest hurts. He didn’t mean to do that— The figure gets up, standing in the light, and it is Ryan for a moment. Then his body twists, and he becomes a shadow even in the light, a void of swarming bees. There’s a noise, like static radio, in his ears, drowning out everything else. He can’t move, even though he wants to leave, to get away._

Shane jolted awake, looking around the room frantically. The light in the kitchen was on. The television was turned off, the droning narrator silenced. He looked to his side, and Ryan was gone, but the blanket remained. He looked towards the window to see that it was still dark out. His phone chirped.

Low Phone Battery – 12%

He groaned as he leaned over to dig his charger out of his bag. The blanket slipped off his shoulder onto the couch. He plugged his phone in, and watched it until the screen darkened from inactivity. He rubbed his eyes. He could barely remember his dream now, as the edges of it began to blur and fade, but he does remember something very vividly. He remembered not being able to control his body, feeling trapped as he kissed his friend. He shivered at the mental picture. He didn’t dwell on it, however, and backtracked to the hot and cold. What even was that? He remembered the cold hands from Franklin Castle. The demon named Anael had done that, right? Well, if the demon was actually real, and not just a rabid figment of his imagination.

A clatter in the kitchen, followed by a hushed curse, practically made Shane jump. He stood up sleepily and ducked into the kitchen. The first thing he saw was the time: 3:53 am. The second thing he saw was Ryan bent over to retrieve a metal spoon from the floor. He put the spoon on the counter and started when he saw Shane peaking in.

“Whoa, dude, don’t scare me like that!” Ryan said, smiling a bit and laughing. “I didn’t expect you to be awake. You looked pretty clocked out.”

“Well, with all the noise you’re making,” Shane teased. Ryan flicked at his arm playfully. “Nah, a dream woke me up.”

“Oh? What kind of dream?” Ryan asked, moving the spoon to a cup in the sink. He grabbed a mug on the counter that was steaming slightly. He guessed Ryan made coffee or something. He hadn’t noticed when he first came in, but it did smell like it. He looked around to see what he’d made it with.

“Just a freaky dream about demons or something,” he said quickly, then, “is that coffee? Did you brew a pot or-?”

“Oh, this? I just used my Keurig. Feel free to make yourself a cup, though. I have half and half in the fridge.” He paused, thoughtfully, and took a sip from his cup. “What kind of dreams have demons in them?”

Shane nodded and opened a random cupboard, finding the mugs by luck alone. Well, he figured they were there, because the cupboard was right above the Keurig. He took out one that said, “Boo Bitches” in a font that looked like bones. He related to this mug. “I dunno, the freaky kind?”

While he picked out a kind of coffee to have (Normal or dark? Or _really_ dark. Such a hard decision), Ryan leaned against the counter and sighed.

“Sorry if I drooled on you earlier. I didn’t think I was that tired.” He said. “The guy just kept talking, and his monotone voice put me right out.”

“Haha, no worries. I was surprised your head even reached my shoulder.” Shane teased. Ryan rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

“You’re the one that’s freakishly tall!” Ryan accused. Shane popped a k-cup into the coffee machine. It read _Jim’s Quality Morning Brew_. Whatever a morning brew was. He hoped it was good.

“I dunno,” Shane said. He merely shrugged.

“One time you hit your head on an exit sign.”

“That was a low exit sign!” Shane argued, although the point was convincing. “Talk about real fire hazards.”

“Well, they’re not hazards to people of normal height.” Ryan said, unhelpfully. Shane moved over to the fridge and grabbed the half and half. His coffee poured rather loudly into the mug as he glared at his friend.

“Sure, you’re normal height, and I’m a monkey’s uncle.” He said. Ryan laughed, grinning, his hand on his chest. Shane grabbed his cup when it was done pouring, and got a spoon to mix in a bit of half and half. He sipped it, the heat warming his body. He watched Ryan laugh with humor in his eyes.

“Maybe you are!” Ryan chuckled. He took another sip of coffee.

“Did you sleep well, though?” Shane asked.

“Yeah, actually. You’re comfier than you look.” He teased. He scratched he back of his neck. “You look so lanky, but it’s actually kind of nice.”

“That’s good.” Shane paused. The silence between them was soft and natural, and it stretched on a bit while they drank their coffees, both leaning against the kitchen counter. Ryan tapped away on his phone, probably playing a game or something. Shane wished his phone wasn’t in the other room charging, although he probably wouldn’t be able to focus on it anyways.

“What are you doing today at work?” Shane asks.

“Editing the video,” Ryan said. He shrugged. “We got a lot of pretty good footage. Maybe we even found something this time.”

Shane shrugged, but there was a small part of him that felt hot on the inside. He thought about the cold hands from the basement, from his dream. He thought about the static noise. He didn’t want Ryan to find anything. How could he deny what’s happening to him if he caught something on film?

“Maybe we did,” he said. “But probably not.”

Even though they both had coffee, at 4:30am they piled back onto the couch and fell asleep under the blanket. Pressed warmly into each other’s space, their sleep was dreamless and quick. Shane felt as if he’d simply blinked and it was suddenly 9:15am. They got up together, brushed their teeth, and popped two bagels in the toaster oven. Shane complained about plain cream cheese, and Ryan was exasperated ‘ _What is salmon flavored cream cheese? That sounds disgusting_!’ They took their own cars to work. It wasn’t super busy at the moment, but that was good, because they would be less distracted that way.

Ryan started editing the video together, adding the commentary screens and other miscellaneous things that made their show a little quirky. Shane poked around on their social media pages, looking at suggestions for places to go and cases to talk about. Of course, it didn’t take him long to stumble upon the various comments about how the two stars of Buzzfeed Unsolved should get together. Honestly, the comments made him feel so tired, like he was talking to his mother over and over again, and listening to her say ‘you’ll find someone eventually’ until his ears started bleeding. Their favorite thing to point out was his apparent single-ness. Well, he was single, but it was by his own choice. If you don’t go fishing, you never catch any fish. Shane didn’t want to date, so he never went out of his way to find a date. He was perfectly fine making friends at the office, eating lunch with coworkers, and chilling at his apartment alone.

Well, at least he used to like that stuff.

He was going to try and go back to his apartment today, of course. He couldn’t live with Ryan. Well, he could, but it would be kind of rude to just invite himself over for forever, wouldn’t it? He’s sure Ryan wouldn’t want to see his face 24/7 anyway.

Where Shane lacked in dating and going out, Ryan made up. He went out a lot, dated girls on and off. He wasn’t a player, no, none of that. He just wanted to have fun, a lot of his exes remained friends with him, it was no big deal. No one’s expecting him to settle down yet. Well, Shane doesn’t know his friend’s whole life. Maybe he is getting pressured by his family, and just ignoring them, like any other young adult. A few weeks ago, Ryan broke up with that girl Helen Pan. He heard it was mutual, though, so that was good. In fact, Shane’s pretty sure he’s still seen Helen around just as often, looking happy and casual.  

He was glad they were still friends. It reminded him of one of his coworkers and close friends Sara. He really enjoyed her company, and there was a point in their relationship where he could have seen himself dating her. He wasn’t sure, though, if he really wanted to date her, or if he was feeling pressured to date someone so that people would stop asking. In fact, there was a day that they’d gone out to lunch together, and he asked her if she wanted to go out for a coffee sometime. It was a sneaky way of seeing if she was interested. Although, it mustn’t have been that sneaky, because she picked up on it immediately.

_“Shane,” she said, a soft smile on her face. “Are you asking me out?”_

_“I- I, uh, I,” he stuttered, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “M-maybe?”_

_She giggled. “I think you’re a great friend, Shane. Maybe let’s keep it that way?”_

_Shane let out a long breath. “O-oh.” He was expecting to feel crushing disappointment, but instead he felt a little lighter. “Actually, I’m okay with that.”_

As he was daydreaming, staring down his computer, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned in his chair and saw that it was their cameraman David. He had a camera bag slung over his shoulder.

“Did the footage turn out okay?” he asked. Shane’s first reaction was to turn and ask Ryan, but when he looked, Ryan wasn’t at his desk.

“Oh, um, I would say ask Ryan, but he doesn’t seem to be here.” Shane said. David shrugged.

“Well, I just ask because the cameras were acting weird today while we were shooting a different video. I hope that the film from Franklin Castle isn’t messed up.” He said. “That was a lot of footage, if it’s messed up…”

“I’ll find Ryan and ask him if he ran into any problems, okay?” Shane said. David nodded and wandered off. Shane looked over at Ryan’s desk again. His laptop was open to the video editing software they use. His headphones were laying haphazardly on his desk, next to a stack of papers and an empty mug.

He figured that Ryan got called away to do something. No need for concern, of course. Although, it must’ve been important for him to stop editing to go do it. One time, Ryan had told him that he either did it all at once, or not at all. It’s a sentiment that people tend to share. Just get it over with while you’re inspired, and then it’ll be done, no more worrying. Shane thought about how hard it was to get back into the swing of something once you’ve left it for a bit.

Just then, his phone buzzed.

_Ryan: Dude, you gotta come see this! I’m in the studio._

At the text, Shane’s blood ran cold. Normally, he’d be excited to go in and listen to whatever sound that Ryan thought was a voice, but this time was different. This time, he wasn’t sure what was real and what was fake. He felt himself starting to get a little overwhelmed.

It’s just a video or audio clip, Shane, nothing to worry about.

_Shane: Be there in a sec._

He made his way to the studio and peeked inside. He could see Ryan in there, listening to something, adjusting things occasionally. He walked up and knocked on the studio door to get his attention. Ryan turned quickly, and smiled when he noticed Shane. He took the headphones off and let him into the room with him.

“I was looking through the videos, and I realized that some of the clips got a little messed up.” He said. Shane thought back to what David had said about the cameras. “At first, I was a little disappointed with the corrupted video and audio, but then I noticed that it was only happening in a specific part of the house.”

Ryan handed Shane a pair of headphones. When they both had headphones on, he pulled up a video file on a monitor and played it. It was a shot from a camera at the top of the stairs to the basement. The scene where Ryan accused Shane of being scared of the basement. Shane hadn’t even thought about how they were still filming, so it was weird to see the conversation played back. Everything was playing fine, until Ryan started going down the steps. A part of the screen’s pixels seemed to die, and the audio clipped in and out for a bit, before the screen just turned black completely. You could still hear the voices, but they were muted. After about two seconds of this, there was a much clearer voice over the other audio. It was a deep voice, smooth and haughty. It grumbled a little when it spoke, like a warning.

_It’s cold, down here._

And then the video and audio went straight back to normal, like nothing had happened. Shane felt like someone had poured cold water down his back. The voice was so clear, so breathy and real. In fact, the video didn’t even have Ryan’s tacky subtitles, but he knew exactly what it had said.

“Well, it,” Shane started, but honestly didn’t know where he was going to go with that.

“That was definitely a voice. Something knew we were there, I would even say it knew we were recording.” Ryan said, excited, but also horrified. “It’s so clear! It said, _it’s cold down here_. That’s so crazy!”

“That- that’s doesn’t prove anything though,” Shane said, desperately grappling for something to disprove it. “It could be… could be anything. Maybe it’s one of the camera men.”

“Shane, are you serious?” Ryan said, exasperated. “That’s clearly a voice! It doesn’t sound like David _or_ Steve.”

Shane took the headphones off. He felt his head pounding at the evidence. “You must have edited the clip or something. That can’t be real. Ghosts aren’t real.” He knew he sounded crazy right now, but he didn’t care. The voice in his head, the things he was seeing, the demon… it was all real?

“Seriously?” Ryan asked, taking his own headphones off as well. His voice rose. “I wouldn’t fake this. I’ve waited so long for evidence, and you’re just going to tell me I made it all up?”

“I don’t know!” Shane was practically shouting now. “I don’t know what this is! It’s can’t be real, I don’t believe it! I don’t want it to be real! I thought this show was a big joke from the beginning, I never expected it to be serious! I didn’t want it to be!”

Ryan furrowed his brow. He looked mildly offended. “Then why did you even _join_ the team if it was never real to you? How can you not accept evidence right in front of you?”

Shane groaned in frustration. He looked down at his shoes. “I need to go, I’ll talk to you later.”

He turned to leave. As the door was closing, Ryan shouted, “Don’t bother!”

Shane went right back to his desk and packed up his things. He was tired, upset, and confused. He emailed his manager and said he was getting sick, so he went home. He got in his car, throwing his bag in the backseat. Shane sat in the driver’s seat and put his head in his hands.

He flipped open his phone and dialed the number of the last person he texted that wasn’t Ryan. It rang three times.

“Shane?” a feminine voice said on the other end. “Is everything okay? I saw you walk out of the office.”

“I may have fucked up,” he said, his voice a little shaky. “Sara, I really fucked up.”

“What happened?” Sara asked. There was a rustling through the phone, as if she had gotten up or moved. “Do you want to talk in person or-?”

“I- I don’t know,” he stuttered. He felt the headache getting worse. Keeping his eyes open hurt, so he closed them. “I have such a bad headache. I don’t think I can drive.”

“I’m coming to get you. Do you want me to take you home?” her voice was soft, but he could tell she was a little panicked. He wished he could be a little clearer, but his tongue felt swollen in his mouth.

“I- I-“ he tried, but failed to answer. His phone slipped from his hands to the floor of the car. He noticed that he hadn’t turned the car on. He couldn’t remember where he’d put his keys, anyways, so he guessed it didn’t matter. He heard Sara’s voice coming from the phone, a static sound, like an imitation of a human voice.

Why did he say those things to Ryan? Yeah, the show was supposed to be comedic, but that didn’t make it a joke. Ryan worked really hard to get the show to even happen, and Shane just stomped all over it. He wasn’t sure to think. He was pretty sure he was losing his mind. He just hoped he didn’t lose Ryan as well.

A few moments later, his driver’s side door opened, but he was still sitting with his head in his hands, and didn’t respond to the movement. He felt smaller, warm hands on his shoulders, an arm across his back. He leaned into the warmth.

“Shane, what’s wrong?” a voice said. He recognized it as Sara. He wondered if she had trouble finding his car. He always parked in the same space. He was a creature of habit just like anyone else. Why was this happening to him again?

Oh, right. Skeptic. Yeah.

“My head hurts, it must be from fucking up my sleep last night.” Shane said, although he was lying through his teeth. He knew that his headache was from hearing that audio. From seeing that video clip. He knew the headache was from the evidence, the stress, the anxiety. It was real, it was all real. The demon was real, and it really wanted to ruin Shane’s life.

“You said on the phone that you fucked up,” she said, and it was soft and gentle. He always thought her voice was nice. She was small and warm, quirky and funny. She always seemed to know what to say. “What happened? What did you fuck up?”

Shane lifted his head slightly. Though, when he did that it felt as if the world had dramatically tilted, so he put his head back down. “It’s Ryan, I really fucked up with Ryan. He probably hates me now.”

“ _Oh_ , no, no, no,” she reassured, rubbing his back in large circles. “You and Ryan, you guys fight, but friends fight. Whatever it was, he probably doesn’t hate you.”

“I called his show a joke.” He admitted. Sara made a soft noise of disapproval.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have done _that_ , per say,” she said. “But he doesn’t hate you. How could anyone hate you? You’re great.”

Shane pulled his hands away from his face, opening his eyes to stare down at them. He heard a small, sharp voice in the back of his head. It said, mockingly, ‘ _yeah, you’re great_.’

“Do you have any migraine medicine?” Shane asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Sara pulled away to rummage through her purse. After a moment, she sighed.

“No.” she said. “Want me to take you home?”

“What about the car?” he asked.

“You could get it later, I’ll tell the supervisor about it.” She said. She gently tugged on his shirt, and he stood, slowly. He blinked open his eyes, and it hurt, but he figured that he wouldn’t get any better sitting around in a parking lot.

Sara took him to his apartment building and made sure he got upstairs and into his place okay. She came in and helped him get something for his migraine, too. He let himself be fussed over, since he was too tired and upset to have done anything anyways. When he was situated on his couch with a pillow and a comforter, Sara put the back of her hand against his forehead. He laughed.

“What do you think, doc? How long do I have?” he joked. She giggled, withdrawing her hand.

“I’d say three months, better get to that bucket list.” She said, and they both laughed. She sat on the arm of the couch and sighed.

“Listen, Shane,” she started. “I don’t really know what happening with you and Ryan, or just you and work, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.” She paused. “Also, I know I really great therapist…”

Shane gave a small huff of laughter. “Thank you, Sara. To be honest, I think I’ve just been stressing myself out lately. I think I’ve just been questioning things lately that I’ve never questioned before.”

Sara tilted her head, reaching down to play with Shane’s hair a little. “Like what?”

“Well, this sounds dumb, but,” he paused, biting his lip. “I’m kind of starting to believe in ghosts? Or maybe I’m just going crazy and I don’t know it?”

Sara laughed. “Oh yeah, you’re definitely crazy.”

“It’s just been a crazy week, I think.” Shane admitted. “It can’t possibly get any worse. I’ll be better next week.”

“Don’t jinx it.” She smiled, giving Shane’s hair one last flick, before standing up. “If I was a witch I would cast a good vibes spell for you.”

“That sounds like it’d be nice,” he said. He really did mean it. Maybe witch stuff was real, too, now.

“I should probably get back to the office now, but if you need anything,” she said. “Don’t be shy, just hit me up.”

“Thanks Sara,” Shane said. “You’re great, you know that?”

“Yeah.”

Then she collected her things, wished Shane one last goodbye, and she was gone. Shane felt comfortable in his apartment, but now that no one else was there, he could tell a sort of tension returned. He closed his eyes, hoping the pain medicine would make him drowsy, so that he could slip into easy unconsciousness. He didn’t want to think about what happened today. He didn’t want to think about how it would change his friendship with Ryan. He didn’t want to think about demons, or ghosts, or witches. He just wanted to sleep.

If only the world would let him do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i barely reread this chapter. i was so stuck i wanted to pull my hair out. sorry about mistakes, point them out if u want lmao. i tried my best.


	4. tell you something you don’t want to hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shane contemplates life, gets attacked by a demon dog, and plans a road trip with ryan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is dedicated to ghostwheeze because they're just awesome and they deserve it, bye.

A week goes by. A whole week. And not just any week, the kind of week where you can feel every second of every day, grinding your teeth, unable to feel anything except your blood pumping through your body and gravity pressing down on your bones. The kind of week that lasts more than seven simple days.

No, it wasn’t the work that was getting deep under Shane’s skin, it wasn’t the stress, or the sleep, or the lack of appetite. It wasn’t his used up sick days, or the laundry sitting in a pile at the end of his bed. It wasn’t the rising electricity bills, or the polluted city air, or the hole forming in his favorite pair of socks.

It was Ryan Bergara.

You see, this whole week, Shane and Ryan didn’t really talk. No, what they did was an elaborate dance. They would discuss, not talk. They would plan, not hang. They wouldn’t make eye contact. They wouldn’t smile or laugh. They barely acknowledged each other’s presence unless it was unavoidable.

To be clear, this was not Shane’s choice. If he was in charge of whatever this was, it would be cancelled immediately. Shane missed Ryan’s quirky smile, and his cheerful laugh, and his playful banter. It wasn’t that he didn’t have other friends, it wasn’t anything like that. It was just, Ryan was special. All his friends were special, everyone was special to him. Everyone was different in their own ways, bringing new ideas to the table, sharing weird thoughts, laughing together. He missed that with Ryan. He missed Ryan.

He may have heard that the clip of the demon was under scrutiny right now in the office. The camera guys remembered seeing some weird stuff happening on the cameras, but they couldn’t conclude if it was fake or not. A deeply rooted part of him knew, for a fact, that the film hadn’t been tampered with. Beyond trusting Ryan, he’d seen this creature that manipulated the footage, the bustling swarm of bees, the storm cloud of evil, or something.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. As Shane grew more distant from his own life, Anael started appearing in small patches throughout the day. Shane could see it in other people’s face, hear its voice in the wind, feel the heat under his skin, like something alive lived there. He felt haunted. He never thought he’d feel this way. He always viewed a haunting like those typical horror movie theatrics. Complete with dish tossing and flickering lights. This was none of that. Anael crept into his mind and laid all the traps. Every sense, manipulated, made vulnerable. The ghost he’d seen in his apartment building before, that must have been Anael. He had done extensive research about the building, and it was relatively new construction, on land that wasn’t cursed in any way. There were no records of deaths, unusual occurrences, or hauntings to be found. With what Anael could do to his vision, hearing, and perception, he figured that must be it.

He wasn’t at the point yet of looking into ways to get rid of demons. There was still a part of him that wanted so desperately for this all to be a bad burrito, or lack of sleep, or too much caffeine. He thought of seeing a therapist, because for a hot second, he believed his google diagnosis of psychosis.

Ever since Franklin Castle, he’d felt beyond fucked up. He wasn’t really sure how to go about patching things up, especially while the reason they were broken was still active in his life. Anael wasn’t doing much but just spooking him now. In fact, he felt as if the fun that Anael was having was becoming repetitive. He knew that the demon hated repetitive things, he’s sure it would spice it up a little soon enough. He feared the worse for when that happened.

The Franklin Castle episode ended up being delayed, due to the questionable footage. People were still looking at it, wondering what was wrong there. No one found anything to suggest tampering, but they still didn’t believe it was real. Instead, the boys were charged with looking for a new place to shoot.

Shane honestly thought this would be a good thing. It would take their minds off of what happened, distract himself from whatever was happening to him, and let them move along in the series. After a little bit of searching, they decided to go to the Villisca axe murder house in Iowa. It was a strange little house in a strange little town. Along with being strange, it was also old. Many people had owned it since the murder, and many people have toured it as well. Shane did a little digging and found that there were many reports of whispers, experiencing strange urges, and other classic haunting things, like noises and unexplained temperature drops.

Shane was pretty sure that he could manage on shoot without doing anything too stupid.

Probably.

The shoot was in three days. They planned on driving, so maybe he could convince the group that they could take two cars (something about the luggage being too big) so that he could spend some quality time with Ryan. He was sure he could fix this, if only Ryan would let him. Not that he blamed Ryan for any of this, it wasn’t his fault- it couldn’t be. Shane was the one who called Ryan’s show a joke. He was the one who couldn’t accept facts or admit that he was wrong. Ryan probably felt more offended by Shane’s apparently disbelieve and lack of faith in him than by any offhanded comment about the show. Friends were supposed to trust each other, through thick and thin, through better or worse.

Shane mapped out the course they would take. Around sixteen hours, give or take, that they would be driving. It was already a full day of driving, and with time for stops, as well as driver switches, they would have to plan on travel being around 18 hours. They wouldn’t be able to shoot, even if they got on the road at the crack of dawn. He would have to stock up on five-hour energy, or a monster cup of coffee, or something. He just hoped that Ryan would be into the idea, the separate cars thing, that is.

When Shane arrived at the office, it was already bustling. It was 7am, and lots of people had come early to get work done earlier. It was rapidly approaching Halloween, and that meant parties. The earlier they could get out of work, the better, in that case. Arriving before 7am was just the compromise.

Shane wasn’t so big on parties, so he didn’t really care if he got home later. He was just going to go home and swap his work clothes for pajamas, pop some popcorn, and settle in for a scary movie anyways. He smiled at the thought, but did deflate a little when he remembered that Ryan probably wouldn’t be joining him.

As he walked to his desk, he wondered if he should just come right out and say it. Tell Ryan what was happening, that a demon was haunting him, making him say and do things. He wanted to tell Ryan, but there was a fear deep in his chest, one of insecurity. What if Ryan thought he was pulling his leg? What if he thought that Shane just wanted that get out of jail free card, and just made it all up? Shane was a lot of things, even an asshole sometimes, but pretending to be possessed was not something he would ever do to prank Ryan. Call out to spirits? Yeah. Challenge demons and lay on pentagrams on the ground? Yeah, he would do that. All that stuff was humorous. Ryan always laughed at his antics. Being possessed, or pretending to be? No. That was somehow crossing a line. Shane wasn’t really a man to cross lines often.

Ryan was at his desk next to Shane’s when he got there.

“Morning, Ryan.” Shane said. He smiled. Ryan glanced up at him quickly in acknowledgement, before looking right back down at his screen.

“Morning,” he said. “So, got everything planned out for the trip?”

“Yeah, about that,” Shane began, pausing just enough to get Ryan to look at him again. “I was wondering if we could take two cars. Me and you in one, the crew in a second.”

“Um, why would we do that?” Ryan asked. He looked back towards his computer. Shane sighed.

“I thought that it would give everyone more room.” Shane shrugged. “It is going to be a long car right after all.”

Ryan was quiet for a moment, staring intently at his screen. He seemed to be considering what Shane was saying. Shane sheepishly crossed his fingers.

“Okay, sure,” he agreed. Shane silently cheered. “We can do that.”

“You wanna take my car or yours?” Shane asked. Ryan looked back at the taller man and quirked a small smile.

“Mine, of course.” He said. Then, almost like he’d caught himself having fun, his face fell, and he looked back at his monitor. “Just, make sure you’re ready, we’ll be leaving really early.”

Shane sat down at his desk, mentally preparing all the things he needed to accomplish on this car ride. He was going to patch things up with Ryan. They were gonna be close again, and Shane wanted nothing more than that. Well, he also wanted this damn demon to leave him alone, but in his book, Ryan came first, always.

That night he called Sara to hang out at his place. She was glad to chill, since she wasn’t too big on parties either. She came over and they changed into the spookiest pajamas they had, popped some fresh popcorn on the stove, and settled down to watch some bad horror movies on Netflix. They put on Friday the Thirteenth, but Stranger Things was in their queue for series to watch together, so they figured that would be next.

“So,” Sara said, plopping down on the couch with their bowl of popcorn. She crossed her legs under it, tucking her feet in. Shane sat next to her. It was oddly reminiscent of cuddling with Ryan on his couch during the documentaries night. To think that wasn’t so long ago, but it felt like it’d been years at this point. “How’s the Ryan situation?”

“Ahh, do you really gotta bring that up?” Shane sighed, but there was also teasing in his voice. He knew she was just concerned, and it wasn’t like he’d done anything too horrible, so it shouldn’t be hard to talk about it. For whatever reason, he just kept making it harder, which he’d quickly realized was a horrible thing to be doing.

“Hey! I’m concerned about you!” She said, smiling. “I believe in you, Madej. You and Ryan will patch things right up, then you’ll go back to being dorks or whatever.”

“Hey, I’m not a dork.” Shane said, though it had no heat. He knew she was right.

“Yeah, because lots of cool grown men get excited about kid’s cartoon series.” She teased.

“Gravity Falls is a masterpiece,” Shane argued. “Dipper is the most relatable character to ever exist.”

Sara shrugged. “Wendy was my favorite.”

After that, Friday the Thirteenth started playing, and they began their little movie watching spree. After the third episode of Stranger Things, Sara forced herself to stop watching. She didn’t really plan on sleeping over, so she got all her things and left, wishing him a goodnight. When she was gone, Shane glanced at the time. 12:20am. He managed to carry himself to his bed somehow, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

_In his dream, he’s in a dark room, but he recognizes it. It’s a blue bedroom, moonlight peeks in from the cracks in the curtains. He’s not alone. Beside him sits a figure. He can tell that it’s Ryan. He wonders if this is some continuation of that last dream he had, but the thought leaves his head like it was blown away. He can’t see Ryan’s face, but he knows the expression there already. He’s frowning, but not an upset frown, a contemplative one. He raises a hand in the dark, touches his lips, and sighs. Shane can feel the tension in the air thinning out, as Ryan moves back in, closing the distance between them. He feels the side of Ryan’s head press into his chest, an arm wrapped around his waist. His other hand bracing himself against the bed, Shane can feel the dip. He’s not sure where to put his own hands, but one finds its way to Ryan’s hair and tangles itself there._

_“It’s okay, I know this isn’t you,” Ryan says, and it sounds weird, like they’re underwater. “I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.”_

_Shane opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. Suddenly he feels an anger well up inside him. He tries to push it back, push it away, because it’s not his own, but he fails. The anger rises up and takes control of his body. He fists his hand in Ryan’s hair and yanks him off of him. Shane watches from outside of himself, as his body pins Ryan to the bed and growls like an animal. He moves forward to try and push his body off of Ryan, but then he turns his head and looks at himself. His eyes are yellow. So, so yellow, and so hot. Angry. Just this look sends Shane backwards, out of the room, and he hears the door slam and lock. Tears stream down his face._

_“No!” he screams, but no one can hear him. “Fuck! No, no, no! I don’t want this! I fucking hate this!”_

Shane jolted awake. He felt something on his face, and when he reached up, he wiped away tears. He sat up and saw that his pillow was wet, as well. Had he been crying?

The dream he had was foggy, but he remembered the hot anger, the desperate begging, the slamming door. He shivered. Just when he thought Anael was leaving him alone, he comes straight back with a dream to torture him.

He checked his clock. 5:57am. He might as well get ready for work. The shoot was in two days, and they would be leaving tomorrow. He still hadn’t packed yet, but he figured he could just do that after work today.

He walked into his bathroom and turned the light on, revealing a figure standing behind him to his left. He jumped, biting back a scream. The figure was a man with piercing yellow cat eyes, skin black as soot, with horns spiraling up out of its choppy black hair. It looked more like a shadow than a man, the edges of it blurring and misting. Shane spun around to face it, but it wasn’t there. He turned back around to look in the mirror and it was still there.

 _“What is it Madej?”_ the figure said, but there was no mouth, just a voice clear as day echoing in his head. _“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”_

“No, no, no,” Shane said through clenched teeth. “Stop fucking with me.”

 _“Maybe I would, if you would just let me in—”_ the figure raised an arm to touch Shane’s shoulder. Before it could touch him, he jumped away from the mirror, staring back into the bathroom. Mist seemed to pour from all the little shadows in his bathroom to form a man. Shane moved backwards again, but tripped over his own feet and fell. He landed on his ass, looking up at the shadow demon.

“I saw what you want to do to Ryan,” Shane growled. Scared, but angry. The combination knocked the breath from his chest, made his head spin. “If you so much as breath in Ryan’s direction, I’ll kill you.”

The yellow eyes narrowed with mirth, and a horrible, echoing laugh sounded through his head.

 _“You? Kill me?”_ it laughed. _“Not even in your dreams, Madej.”_

The demon’s laughter got deeper and deeper as it’s body twisted and snapped, shrinking in on itself and reforming into something else. Shane scrambled to his feet, and when he looked back, a black dog had taken the demon’s place. It also had poison-yellow eyes, but this monster had large, white teeth and red, red gums. Shane bolted for his door, the dog growling and taking off after him, its jaws snapping mere inches from his ankles. He swung his door open and slammed it shut, sighing in relief when he felt a large thud hit the wood followed by a pained whimper.

At the sound of a cleared throat, Shane looked to the side. His neighbor was standing outside their apartment, giving him a concerned look. Shane slid down the door and sat on the floor. He smiled as normally as possible and waved.

“Such a great morning, isn’t it?” he laughed.

When Shane went back into the apartment after a quick walk outside to clear his head, it was exactly as he had left it. Nothing was out of place; besides the things he’d knocked over in his mad dash outside. He hoped that Anael didn’t decide to make yet another demon dog appearance. That one was by far the most terrifying.

It wasn’t as if Shane didn’t like dogs. He never had a dog in his life, or a cat, or anything larger than your average rodent. Dogs tended to make him nervous, generally, although he rationally knew that most of them were harmless. Stray dogs, however? They were unpredictable. They say not to pet stray dogs for a good reason.

Everything seemed to be okay, though, so he proceeded with getting ready. Though, he thought he would be early when he woke up this morning. He guessed he would have been if it weren’t for the demon haunting him. At this point, he could still solidly say that the demon scared him. Yeah, he wasn’t scared by much, but a demon who can transform into a rabid dog, speak through his mind, and wanted to ruin his life was pretty terrifying. Although, that fear was starting to move aside a little for a second feeling: anger. He was angry. Anael was getting in the way of his life, his friendships, his alone time. He was angry, because Ryan wasn’t talking to him, and he wasn’t doing anything about it.

This road trip would fix it. He would tie up all the loose ends. He would fix all the damage. He would trust Ryan and Ryan would trust him. He wouldn’t let the demon take Ryan, but he sure as hell was getting Ryan back.

He guessed that started with telling Ryan the truth.

When he walked into work, he immediately noticed that Ryan wasn’t at his desk. He saw that there were papers all over, his laptop open and dimmed in inactivity. There were two empty cups of coffee, a handful of printed photographs, a notebook, and three pens: one black, one red, and one blue. Shane looked around the room, but couldn’t see Ryan anywhere in the space. He pulled out his phone and opened his messaging app. He clicked on Ryan’s name.

His fingers hovered over the digital keyboard. Should he really shoot Ryan a text?

Fuck it.

_Shane: Hey, you’re not at your desk, everything okay?_

He sat down and booted up his computer. A few moments went by, where he mindlessly shuffled some documents around, before his phone chirped at him.

 _Ryan: yeah something’s come up_  
_Ryan: meet me in conference room b_  
_Ryan: we gotta talk_

Shane immediately felt a little nauseous. He stood up so quickly that he didn’t see someone standing behind him, and knocked into them. Papers spilled out all over the ground.

“Oh god,” he said, bending down to help pick up the mess he made. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking—”

“Shane, it’s okay.” A familiar voice said. When he looked over at the person collecting papers with him, he saw that it was Keith. He grinned at Shane, collecting the last of the papers, before standing up. Shane handed him the ones he picked up. “In a rush?”

Shane scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, kinda, idk?” he wasn’t sure why he had the urge to run, but he did. “Sorry I bumped into you. You know how I get.”

Keith laughed. “Yeah, I know. I won’t keep you, here, thanks for helping me pick up.”

Shane blushed as he moved around Keith and made his way down the hall. He passed a few private offices and empty rooms, before he came to the conference rooms at the end of the hall. To the left were more rooms. He went up to the second one, took a breath in, and opened the door.

The conference room was spacious. In the middle of the floor was a table that easily sad ten people. All the chairs had wheels, and where all pushed out from the table in different directions like a group of people had just left. In one of the chairs sat Ryan. He seemed to be studying some papers. Shane cleared his throat, closing the door with a soft click.

Ryan turned around with a pensive look on his face. When he saw Shane, he seemed to almost smile, before his face fell.

“So, I’m just going to get right to the point,” he started, moving to stand. He didn’t look very happy. “We can’t publish the Franklin Castle episode.”

Shane felt like a rug was yanked out from under his feet. “What, now?”

“We can’t use the footage,” he repeated. “Remember the thing I showed you? I found more corruption and mysterious audio in the rest of the footage in the basement. When management saw the footage, they were convinced I had altered the footage, and demanded the original. I couldn’t give them anything, because I hadn’t done anything to the footage.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “They said that if I didn’t remove the altered footage, they would cancel my show. I didn’t know what to do, so I decided to just scrap the whole episode.”

Shane stepped closer to Ryan, holding out his hands as if to comfort his friend, but stopped halfway. “Ryan, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t do anything to the audio or the video! That was real evidence!” Ryan shouted, and it sounded desperate. “I swear I didn’t do anything! I swear!”

“Hey, _hey_ ,” Shane said in a calming voice. He reached out and grabbed Ryan by the shoulders as gently as possible. Ryan looked up at him. “Hey, I believe you. _I believe you_.”

Ryan looked hopeful for a moment, before he shrugged off Shane’s hands, looking hurt. “You said the show was a _joke_. You’re probably just saying this now, because I was mad at you.”

“Ryan, please, listen to me,” Shane started, trying to appear as honest as possible. “I believe you. You want to know why?”

Ryan was silent for a while, still sporting the lidded, untrusting look. Then, he sighed, nodding. “Yeah.”

“When we were in that house, I felt some things.” He said. “The first time I went into the basement, I was snooping around when I felt cold hands grab my shoulders from behind me. I turned around and no one was there. That’s why I was running.”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “So, when you were freaking me out in the basement—”

“I was experiencing something again like that. It was so weird and freaky,” Shane said. “I didn’t want to freak you out just then, and then later I just didn’t want to admit it.”

Ryan grinned, moving forward into Shane’s space and placing a hand on his arm. “So, you believe me? And stuff happened to you there?”

“Yes, of course, I believe you,” Shane said. “I know you wouldn’t alter tapes to fake evidence. You’re not that kinda guy.”

The smaller man let go of his arm and turned back around to collect his things.

“Well, even if we don’t get to post the Franklin Castle video,” he said, “at least we’re gonna be filming again soon. At the Villisca ax murder house, right?”

“Yeah,” Shane confirmed. They walked together back to their desks. “The drive’ll be fun, and I have a good feeling about this place.”

“Me, too,” Ryan agree. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Stood in each other’s space. Ryan looked as excited as he felt. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> help me with grammar and spelling word doesn't catch shit anymore lol


	5. slow burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shane fights against growing feelings, confused as to if they're his or not. ryan hates booberries and thinks shane is gross.

Ryan drove first. It was his car after all, so it made sense. Before they had started the trip, the two of them had collected several bags full of snacks and treats so that they might eat that instead of taking stops. Currently, the boys were in a fight over which snack food was better: veggie straws or chex mix. There were arguments for both sides, of course. ‘Well veggie straws are better for you.’ ‘Do you actually believe that Ryan?’ ‘Well, they’re called veggie straws not cholesterol straws, Shane!’ Ultimately, they agreed to disagree. Shane thought that a playful argument about snacks was the perfect beginning to a long day with his best friend.

They passed open fields, their green just barely kissed by frost, warming in the rising morning sun. They passed clusters of pines, looming far above their heads, holding their secrets deep within. They passed deer, and birds, and cats. They passed through sleepy towns, their browns and reds melding together into a new thing, a new entity. Each person connected to each other like paper chains. It was about three hours into the trip before they took their first pit stop. Shane checked his watch: 7:12 am. He felt like it should have been later in the day. Stepping out of Ryan’s car, he stretched, yawning. Ryan snuck up on him and grabbed him at the ribs mid-stretch.

“Haa-!” Shane breathed out sharply at the sudden intrusion. Ryan laughed and turned to walk into the rest stop. Shane chased after him. “Get back here, jerk!”

After a bathroom break, they wandered into the attached cafeteria. It wasn’t too busy, which was good, because Shane didn’t feel like dealing with lots of people at the moment. Steve and David said they were going to get something at the McDonalds. Ryan was eyeing the Starbucks, so Shane just tagged along with him. They stood away from the counter, studying the menu, wondering what they wanted to order.

“How do you think their oatmeal is?” Ryan asked, his arms crossed over his chest in thought. Shane looked over at him. Shane smiled at Ryan’s adorably frazzled hair and clothes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a while. Shane wondered if Ryan would sleep during his turn driving.

“Not as good at their coffee,” Shane said. “But look, they have _boo_ berries in it.”

“Th—they have what now?” Ryan asked, side-eyeing his friend.

“ _Boo_ berries. God, Ryan, don’t you know what a _boo_ berry is?” Shane dramatically rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the amused smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, my god,” Ryan laughed and elbowed Shane’s side. “You’re such a nerd!”

“And you aren’t?” he asked.

“I’m not the one making spooky fruit puns, so no.” Ryan said.

Shane was silent for a moment, before he nodded in agreement. “Damn, you’re right.”

The two ordered their food and coffee and waited around for it at a side counter. It was so early, and so quiet. Kind of eerie, in fact. Shane looked through some of the apps on his phone, but quickly grew bored.

“What do you think we’ll find in Villisca?” he asked, turning to look at his friend. Ryan looked up from his phone, staring off across the cafeteria in thought.

“Honestly? Another spooky house with a haunted past.” He said simply. “I feel like places where people were murdered are particularly touchy. There was no justice. They must be hurting.”

“Wow,” Shane started jokingly, “You don’t need to go all _Lovely Bones_ on me, Ry.”

Ryan lightly punched him in the arm with a laugh. “I’m serious! I know you don’t believe in ghosts, but what if they are real? Wouldn’t you be angry? If someone killed you and got away with it?”

Shane considered it for a moment. He listened to the grinding of coffee beans and distant idle chatter. _Wouldn’t you be angry?_ He thought about the demon that constantly poured emotions into him. It was always angry. _Wouldn’t you be angry?_

Yes.

“I don’t think I’d be angry,” he said. “Mostly because I’d be dead.”

“Oh my god, Shane.” Ryan said, exasperated.

“Well, it’s the truth!” he said.

“Don’t you have an ounce of wonder in your body?” Ryan asked. “Or are you just scientific fact to the bone?”

Shane scratched his chin. “I believe in Bigfoot.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Bigfoot was made up by a dude who frequently pranked his town. Do you really believe in a prank?”

“If any _supernatural_ being does end up being true, I put my money on Bigfoot.” Shane said. “Maybe it’s not intelligent, maybe it’s just a strain of mutated bears. Whatever it is, it seems more plausible than ghosts.”

“Okay, man, whatever you say,” Ryan said, grinning. “Just let me know when you catch Bigfoot on camera.”

“Now I feel like I _have_ to catch Bigfoot on camera, just because you said something.”

After they were done at the rest stop, they hopped back in their cars, Shane in the driver’s seat this time. For the first hour on the road, Ryan and Shane laughed and joked, but eventually the conversation dwindled to a trickle, and then to a halt. Ryan closed his eyes after daydreaming out the window for a time.

As the day sped by, Shane wondered if he should be worried. He thought a lot about Anael in the stretches of silence that filled the car when one of them was sleeping in the passenger’s seat or stretched across the back row. As much as he would like to say that he wasn’t concerned about Anael, he would be wrong if he did. There’s something very, very real about Anael’s threats and ploys. Something physical about the black dog that had chased him through his apartment. There was something terrifying about its absence, like there was something looming over him, waiting to strike. Like a snake waiting patiently for a rodent to cross its path, or a lion crouched in the savannah grass, blending in seamlessly. If Shane didn’t think about it, would that be worse than freaking himself out? He considered that Anael was just being purposefully absent for long enough to make him paranoid. It reminded him of receiving the silent treatment from someone, left alone to eat your heart out in abandonment.

He didn’t crave Anael’s attention, he just feared what was coming from its absence.

Hours down the road, Shane would look out the window during Ryan’s turn to drive, his eyes getting lost in the heart of the dark forests lining the highway. The trees bent and swayed with the wind, curling in on themselves and blending together as the car rushed by. Inside, however, deep underneath the long pale tree bones was a pulsing interior. Thousands of eyes, watching, waiting, patiently for them. He wondered what it would be like if he were there. He wondered how he would feel deep inside the beast, alone. He shivered at the thought, before slipping into a light nap.

They arrived at their hotel at 11pm. They couldn’t film today, so staying at the residence in question would be pointless, since they wouldn’t have any build-up to sleeping overnight. Besides, everyone was too tired to set up cameras or think about ghosts after the long drive. They were all stiff from sitting too long, and would rather lounge around and chill before the shoot tomorrow.

Shane, Ryan, Steve, and David stepped out of their cars in the hotel parking lot. Steve and David offered to go and check in, leaving Shane and Ryan outside to decide on a place for dinner. Honestly, there wasn’t much around. A few local diners, bars, probably all closed now. As he was desperately searching for a signal in this middle-of-nowhere town, he felt Ryan tap him on the arm.

“I think I found a restaurant that’s open ‘till one,” he informed Shane. “We could just pile into one car this time.”

“What’s on the menu?” Shane asked. He could go for some traditional late-night dive food. He was already getting a creepy vibe from the small town. It reminded him of the town where the Keddie cabin murders took place, like they were intruding on something they shouldn’t. Some comfort food was all he really wanted.

“Just looks like burgers.” Ryan said, skimming a picture of their menu. He looked up then, staring across the street towards an abandoned gas station with a tractor parked near an aged-looking car wash. “Do you—do you feel like we’re being watched?”

“Watched?” Shane asked, following his gaze to find what he was looking at. There was nothing there, but it was so dark that he couldn’t really tell. There were just so many shadows. “I think you’re just tired from driving all that way. Did you know some people hallucinate when they’re tired?”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “This town is creepy, man.”

Shane couldn’t agree more. “Yeah, it is small and in the middle of nowhere.” He paused. “Anything could happen out here.”

“Including the murder of four traveling ghost hunters,” Ryan pointed out helpfully. “Add our own disappearance to the list of unsolved cases…”

“Ry, we’re not gonna get murdered here,” Shane said. There was a loud bang far to their left, like a metal trash bin getting knocked over. Ryan jumped at the noise. “Well, at least I _hope_ we won’t.”

Ryan had instinctively reached out and grabbed Shane when the noise happened. Shane could feel the warmth of him against his chilled skin. It was pretty brisk outside, and feeling the warm touch made him want to wrap himself around Ryan and never let go.

For a moment, he felt hot with embarrassment over the thought. Sure, Ryan was warm, and it was cold, but why jump to such an idea? He was glad that they were getting along better now, but something inside him was starting to crave these accidental touches and intimate exchanges between just them. He thought about what Anael had said back in his car, all those days ago. ‘ _We’ll see who wants what in time_.’ It had been a threat then, simple as that.

Shane had known Ryan for months, _months_. What would make him develop feelings now? What crawled into his chest and wrapped itself around his heart? Shane knew the deal, drastic moments reveal your true feelings, but something about the development was off. Before Anael, he could count the number of times he felt conflicting emotions about Ryan on one hand.

Then the door to the hotel opened and Ryan’s hand fell away from Shane’s arm, and Shane let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding in. Shane felt himself put a little more distance between him and his friend, not totally sure if he could trust himself so close to Ryan right now.

“So, what’s the haps?” David asked. “We’re checked in, now we’re hungry.”

“There’s a diner down the road that’s open until one.” Ryan said. He gestured to his car. “Want to pile in and go?”

The crew got into the car and let Ryan drive them down the road to the diner. When they arrived, they noticed that the building was pretty old and retro-looking. The parking lot wrapped around it, but there were only about three cars parked, all at the front. Shane guessed that they were the employee’s cars. Inside, only half the lights in the dining room were on, creating an eerie mood that could only be described as paused. It was silent but for the background buzzing of old lights, empty but for the shadows moving in the back only visible through a tray slot in the wall. It smelled of old leather and cigarette smoke. The booths were all red and white, the floor a checkered tile. The walls were decorated with 80s pinup posters and old relics on shelves meant for viewing only.

The group awkwardly stood in the entrance next to the hostess stand for a little bit. They dared not make a noise, for fear of unpausing the video and forcing everything back to life. Eventually, the spell was broken when a woman wearing a red polo, black pants, and a retro apron walked out from the back and up to them. She had long blonde hair that was pinned up, and she clicked a pen in her hand several times before speaking.

“Four?” she asked, and snapped the bubble gum she was chewing. Shane couldn’t help but think that she was the epitome of every stereotypical 80s waitress. If only she was wearing roller skates, it would really complete the look.

“Yes, thank you,” Ryan jumped in when no one was responding. He gave the group a disappointed once over. Shane almost laughed.

“Follow me,” the blonde turned and lead them to a table that was a corner booth. The corner was more window than wall, looking directly into an abandoned building on one side, and across the street into an expansive cornfield on the other side. Shane decided it was too freaky here to look outside, so he sat across from Ryan so that he could look at him instead.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said, and left them to their table.

The group looked at their menus. They were dated, with ratty corners and some were scribbled over with crayons. Shane thought it reminded him of an 80s version of Cracker Barrel.

“Does anyone else find this place shady as fuck?” Shane asked. Ryan rolled his eyes, but grinned nonetheless.

“Honestly, this place is so retro that it’s weird,” David admitted. Steve nodded in agreement. “This honestly feels like the abandoned set of an 80s schoolyard film.”

“Are there Jiffy Pops on the menu?” Shane asked avidly, watching Ryan as he said this, and letting his smile grow when he saw Ryan laugh in response.

“They wouldn’t have those, even in the 80s!” Ryan said, thumbing through the menu, but still grinning. “Jiffy Pops, what are you, my grandpa?”

“Milkshakes it is then,” he said, pointing at a tall-glass vanilla shake with a cherry on top in the drinks section. “And fries. I love a good milkshake and fries.”

“Why are you so gross?” Ryan asked. David and Steve chuckled while looking over their menus. Shane faked offense at the statement, shooting Ryan a look.

“Milkshakes and fries are a delicacy, Ryan.” Shane argued.

“Sure, they are,” Ryan joked. As Ryan looked back over his menu, Shane let his eyes linger a little longer. He could tell that despite the jokes and playful banter, Ryan was stressed. He could see it in the straight line of his back, a rigid difference from the slight curve of it when they laid together on Shane’s couch for a movie.

Shane wondered if it would be too weird to offer Ryan a backrub.

As they waited for the waitress to return to take their orders, David and Steve talked about something they’d seen while driving, or some drama that was happening in the office. Shane didn’t hear most of it, since he was only half listening. Under the table, Shane’s foot accidentally bumped Ryan’s. Silently, they exchanged glances. When their eyes met, Shane felt a deep, dark heat bloom in his stomach. Like an ember burning hot in the core of his body. The other’s voices were suddenly far away, like the only thing in the universe was Ryan.

The trance was broken by the waitress returning to the table. She cracked her chewing gum, and the tension snapped like a rubber band breaking in your hand. Coming away, Shane still felt the sting of it, a raised line across his chest.

The others ordered, but Shane was still reeling from the intrusiveness of his own thoughts. He wasn’t sure what this all meant. When the waitress got to him, he looked up at her with a look of discomfort on his face.

“I’ll just have a water,” he said. “Where’s your bathroom?”

She pointed down a nearby hallway and moved to go back behind the counter. Shane could feel his friend’s eyes on him. He hurried away down the hall. He tried the bathroom door, and at first it was stuck, so he yanked harder. It came loose with a loud creak. It was a one-person bathroom, which was good, because he didn’t want anyone walking in on him in this state.

As he locked the stall door, the lights flickered. He felt a presence there with him. All the heat in his body was drained out, leaving him shivering in the bathroom. It smelled in there. Smelled of stagnant water and watered down bleach. He grabbed the edges of the porcelain sink, leaning heavily on it as he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked pale, paler than usual. His eyes held a glint in them, reminiscent of the demon’s shining yellow eyes piercing deep into his soul.

He turned the faucet on, relishing in the soothing sound of water running, breaking up the silent tension that had built up around him like walls of ice. He studied the water rushing down the drain, wondered what it felt like to get washed away, like a leaf carried off down a sewer grate on the side of the road, or a child dragged underneath by a wave, held captive in a watery embrace.

They had just arrived, and yet he was already feeling a pang of homesickness reverberating within him. Maybe choosing to spend this time with Ryan wasn’t such a good call. Maybe this was just what Anael wanted. Maybe he was playing right into the demon’s hands.

No, it was just a few nights, then he would be back in his normal schedule. Just a few nights, then he could establish if he wanted to keep Ryan at arm’s length or not.

Back at the hotel, he forgot that they agreed on two double beds. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, he was a grown man after all, and could sacrifice his space to save money. They all got ready for bed, and almost as soon as everyone was tucked in, the lights were off. Shane waited for about five minutes, before he got up, threw a jacket and his shoes on, and left.

He wrapped his arms around himself as he made his way outside. Once he left the hotel, he went and sat on the edge of the sidewalk, looking out into the dark.

He shivered, the cool october night air rushing right through his pajamas and jacket. He wished he could be more mature about this, or just put all these crazy, nonsense feelings right out of his brain and just be done with it. He wasn’t even sure anymore if this was only Anael. He felt a tugging on his heartstrings whenever he thought about Ryan and the complicated relationship between them. He just wanted everything to be the way it was before, was that so much to ask?

After a moment of sitting in silence, he heard the hotel door open behind him. He turned and saw Ryan standing there in his hoodie and pajama bottoms. He looked surprised to see Shane there on the sidewalk.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ryan asked, crossing his arms. “Come inside, you’re going to get sick out here.”

Shane looked away, back towards the mess of woods across the street. He yearned to be swallowed whole by the darkness, gripped harshly by the cold and plunged into silence. Maybe then he could forget about his feelings, he could sleep without dreaming.

“I can’t sleep.” he lied. He was tired, but he knew that all that was waiting in sleep was Anael. He didn’t trust himself to sleep next to Ryan, either. What if Anael took control? What if something happened? “Just go back to bed, Ry.”

“When are you going to stop pretending to be okay?” Ryan asked, coming to sit beside Shane on the sidewalk. “I can tell there’s something wrong. You didn’t eat at all at the diner. You? Not eating? That’s crazy.”

Shane couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh. “Yeah, that place was weird, though. Maybe I didn’t want to get food poisoning.”

Ryan clutched his stomach dramatically. “Oh no, you were right! They poisoned us all!”

Shane shoved Ryan’s shoulder lightly and smiled. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his arms there. It was moments like these where things felt normal. But he could feel the heat crawling up his back. A tight ball of want settling in his chest, burning, the steam from it rising and clogging up his thoughts.

“Seriously, though,” Ryan started. He sounded more sincere, his voice softer. “I really care about you. If there’s anything I can do. Anything you want to tell me.”

Shane felt the confession bubbling up in his throat. He wanted to tell him so badly, about the demon, about what was happening, about his feelings, about everything. He wanted to badly for someone to know, to see him, to understand what he was going through. But the words were caught behind his lips. They refused to leave him. He tried to push past the barrier, but he just wasn’t strong enough.

“I know Ryan,” he said softly. “Let’s go upstairs.”

As they stood in the elevator, waiting to reach their floor, Shane noticed Ryan’s hand dangling at his side. He imagined what it would feel like in his own. He could reach out, right now, and grab it if he wanted. Take hold of Ryan’s hand and _just tell him._

The elevator door dinged, and he let out a small breath of disappointment, watching Ryan step out first. They shed their jackets and climbed into bed. They laid facing away from each other.

Shane felt unconsciousness creeping up on him like a predator. He wasn’t sure what he was going to see tonight. He hoped that it was nothing. As the darkness overcame him, he begged that tonight would be dreamless.

_Shane could hear Ryan’s muffled voice coming from behind the door. Each time he tries to grab the doorknob, it evaporates right before him, his hands passing right through it, tiny pieces of it scattering like gnats, only to reform as his hand leaves the space. He gives up on the doorknob and throws his shoulder again the door instead. It’s hard as stone, even though it appears to be made of wood. His shoulder aches at each attempt. Ryan screams on the other side of the door._

_“Stop it! Leave him alone!” Shane shouts, banging on the door. He hears a crash on the other side, and a muttered curse. He tries the knob again and it’s solid now. He twists it, and the door swings open. He stumbles in upon Anael in his body clutching a gash above his eye. Ryan stands, partially undressed in the opposite corner with an digital alarm clock clutched in his hands._

_“Get away from him.” Shane growls and tackles Anael, wrestling with him, fighting until he ends up pinning the demon by the neck. He squeezes Anael’s throat, and it’s a weird image, because he’s technically choking himself. He feels nauseous as he fights it, feels his own hands on his neck, but he can’t let go now, he can’t let Anael hurt Ryan._

_He can’t let himself hurt Ryan._

_“Get out of my body!” he screams. Anael seems to struggle for a little longer, before his eyes roll back into his head. Suddenly, he falls forward, his arms disappearing into the body beneath him. He hears Ryan shout his name, but it’s distant and muffled. Once he’s fully enveloped, all he can hear and feel and see is inky blackness. He falls deeper and deeper into the blank void of space, getting farther and farther away from Ryan’s voice. He doesn’t seem to breath, or move, or see much. There’s a ringing in his ears, and then, and then._

_“Just let me in, my child.” a voice says. “And you can sleep. I promise.”_

And so Shane slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got a beta reader! a million thanks to laurensintheplacetobe


	6. you can talk to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane's not acting right. Could it be a demon?  
> Time for a look through Ryan's eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter (all mild): sexual content, swearing, self-harm, blood, violence

When Ryan woke the next day, Shane wasn’t in bed with him. He knew because anytime they’d shared a bed, he’d wake up with Shane’s warm weight draped over him, or with all the covers having been stolen. He reached over to Shane’s side of the bed and felt that it was chill to the touch, like he hadn’t been there for a while. Rolling over, he forced his eyes open so he could check the time.

5:00am

He looked over and saw that the others were still sleeping, so he slipped out of bed and threw on some sweats and a hoodie and trudged over to the elevator. He yawned as it descended, his brain only just started to slowly boot up and begin functioning. He thought about what had happened last night with Shane. He hadn’t eaten with them, he spent his time in the bathroom instead, and then he sat outside when he thought everyone was asleep.

He’d thought that Shane had been acting weird ever since Franklin Castle. First, he was freaked out about the basement, then he snapped at him about the show, and then he was suddenly admitting to Ryan that he had experienced something. Shane had told him that he saw something, and felt hands, at that house; but he’d be damned if he didn’t think that his friend wasn’t still keeping things from him. He wondered what Shane thought he had to lose by telling him if he’d experienced something supernatural. Did he think Ryan wouldn’t believe him? Sure, Shane brushed all of Ryan’s ‘ _ findings’ _ off for the camera, but he did at least listen, and sometimes he even agreed that they could be something unexplainable. Ryan owed it to him to at least listen to reason. If Shane was suffering in some way, wasn’t it basically his job as his friend to let him know he was there for him?

Not to mention how he felt about the man. Of course, it wasn’t the first time he felt some kind of way towards another man that wasn’t inherently platonic. It wasn’t the first time he felt little butterflies in his stomach at the mention of a masculine name or at the sight of soft stubble. Usually, however, the feelings were fleeting, ghosting things. He wasn’t afraid to appreciate a man, although years of bullying in his youth might have forced him to think so.

The difference with Shane, however, was how it stuck around. Like a piece of gum on the heel of your shoe, slowly building itself up with every leaf and blade of grass it collects while you walk. At first, it was a similarity in interests, then it was a shared love of mysteries, then it was adopting him onto his show, then it was long nights watching movies sharing a bowl of popcorn. And now, and now...

_ And now _ it was all falling apart. Ryan wondered if it was because of him that Shane was acting weird. A little piece of him wondered if Shane felt the butterflies, too, and that maybe he was afraid of tearing their friendship apart.

But that was just the hopeful boy in him. The one that was curious about how heavy a man’s hand would be in his, how different his sheets would smell after another man had been in them, how his life would shift, just so slightly.

The ding of the elevator jolted him out of his thoughts. He blinked absently and made his way out into the lobby of the hotel. There was a long table pressed against one wall with three big thermoses of coffee and one of hot water. Collected around it were various things to add to it, like sugar and cream. And standing at the end of the table, facing the wall, was Shane.

Ryan approached leisurely, grabbing a foam cup and filling it with black coffee. He could see Shane’s face from the side, but the other man didn’t budge at his presence.

“Morning buddy,” he greeted. Shane blinked and turned to look at Ryan. There was a distinct pause, and in that moment, Ryan could tell something was wrong. It was like that feeling you get when you tap someone you think you know on the shoulder, but when they turn around they have a different face. Except that it was Shane’s face, or at least it looked like it.

“Oh hey, Ryan,” he said. It sounded stiff and formal. “Did I wake you when I got up?”

Ryan tore open a packet of cane sugar and poured it into his coffee. He reached for a stirrer. “Uh, no,” he said. “I guess I just don’t sleep as well in unfamiliar places.”

Shane laughed. The sound seemed to melt away some of the tension around them. Was Ryan imagining all that before? “Yeah, you barely sleep when we travel for shoots.”

Ryan gave a soft laugh, too. He tossed the stirrer away and took a sip of his coffee. It was bitter, and tasted slightly burnt, but it could have been worse. Ryan noticed that Shane was holding a cup that had the string of a teabag hanging over the lip.

“Tea?” he asked. He knew Shane liked tea, but he figured that he would want something stronger after all that had happened yesterday and last night. “You sure that’s gonna keep you up? We  _ are  _ filming today, Shane.”

Shane moved his arm and dropped the cup into the trashcan at the end of the table. “I’ll be fine, Ryan. No need to worry about me.”

Ryan watched him skeptically, but then nodded. He rustled his own hair a little bit out of habit, and went to find someplace to sit down. He expected Shane to follow him when he sat down on a dusty sofa, but he just remained at the table, silently watching the tall thermos of hot water.

Once everyone was up, they started repacking everything to move it to the site where they would be filming. Ryan packed rather quickly, so he sat on his laptop, using the hotel’s free wifi to make notes about post filming. He figured they should get a lot of filming done, so that he would have more material to edit down to the standard running time for Unsolved episodes. He had a meeting this week on Thursday, so he would have to plan to start editing before then. He also kept a tab open that he switched to every so often.

_ Signs that someone is possessed _ .

He felt a little silly for searching such a thing, but he would be a liar if he said he wasn’t concerned. Today was the high of all times Shane has acted strange, and he wanted answers. Shane was unwilling to give him them, so he would just have to find them himself.

He had started this search with  _ Demons at Franklin Castle _ and  _ Demon Summoning Rituals and Symbols _ . When he was looking through past footage and photographs, he’d noticed that Shane had taken a photo of a carving on a windowsill. It was an odd thing to see, although he had first brushed it off as graffiti. After looking into it, he found out that the symbol was apparently the sigil of a demon that people often summoned during sexual awakening rituals.  _ Okay, weird, but were the rituals ever successful _ ?

Apparently, they were.

Something he found that he’d looked over in initial research was that there had been an incident at the Franklin Castle where four bodies were discovered in the basement. There were three females and one male, all showing signs of sexual assault, and were all killed with a knife that wasn’t found at the scene. There had also been evidence of a ritual, the police discovering partially melted black candles, vials of cat blood, bird bones, and salt found at the scene.

Shane had said that he felt cold hands in the basement. Was that the ghosts of the victims, or was it something much darker?

And that’s what lead him to  _ demonic  _ possession.

He had experienced a demon following him before. He felt exhausted all the time, was haunted by vicious nightmares, sometimes following him into the waking world. Sometimes it simply felt like there was a weight on his shoulders that no amount of sleep or exercise or self-evaluation could shake. It was like there was a ball and chain connected to his ankle.

He couldn’t even imagine being  _ possessed _ .

Some accounts of possession, he found, involved victims losing their appetite, experiencing uncharacteristic outbursts, acting distant, or isolating themselves from others. Ryan could remember a time where Shane had displayed each symptom. Lack of appetite could explain why Shane suddenly wasn’t hungry at the diner. Uncharacteristic outbursts accounted for his mental break down in the recording studio. This morning, and all through the last week, Shane had been particularly distant with him, at least. And Ryan could recall Shane walking out on him at least twice in the past two days, when he thought that he wouldn’t follow.

As he dug deeper into the symptoms, he became more and more convinced that Shane was possessed, or haunted, or something, by a demon. This demon who was likely responsible for the brutal murders of the four people in the Franklin Castle basement. Ryan hoped that he was just projecting, but there was something too real about it.

The group decided to get breakfast at a different diner before they started the shoot. Just like last night, Shane excused himself to the bathroom. Ryan watched him go and as soon as he was out of earshot, he turned to David and Steve.

“You think Shane is acting  _ weird _ ?” he asked hurriedly. The two looked a little surprised, but then Steve nodded.

“Actually, yeah,” he admitted. “He hasn’t been eating, and this morning he was really spacey.”

“Yeah,” David agreed. “He got up at like 3am this morning and just left. I’m surprised he even woke me up, he barely made any noise.”

“He- he was up for two hours before I got up?” Ryan stuttered. “Guys, he couldn’t have gotten more than three hours of sleep last night. It was past midnight when we got to bed.”

“Think he’s getting sick?” Steve asked. David stirred his coffee.

“More like sick in the head,” he said. “I think the stress is getting to him.”

“The stress…” Ryan said to himself. He spotted Shane coming out of the bathroom then, so he made a vague gesture about ending the conversation to the others. The group ate breakfast together, except Shane, who took two bites of an apple and drank a cup of water and said he was full. The rest of them exchanged glances, but otherwise kept their mouths shut. It wasn’t their place to tell Shane to eat more. Ryan quietly added the strange behavior to his list of evidence. Observing and accounting for everything was all he could do for now.

When they arrived at the location, the owner was there to tell them some stuff about the house before they started filming. Just safety stuff and tips, like the cleanest place to sleep and the most active rooms. After they left, the crew just stood in front of the house and simply observed.

It was an unassuming house. Mostly white or off-white. Slated roof, red brick chimney, front porch, grassy yard. It was a picturesque image of a time before, an old house from another period in history, ruined by the events that took place within, still unsolved to this day.

“Such a horrible way to die,” Ryan said once the cameras were rolling. He stared at the house, rubbing his arms absently. “I’m not super hyped to stay the night here.”

Shane stared at the house in a way that sent Ryan a weird vibe. There was a long pause, long enough for Ryan and the crew to notice, before Shane said anything in response. As if he had been in a trance.

“Yeah, how did they die again?” he asked, and he took a single step towards the house, and it felt like a lot since his legs were so long compared to Ryan’s. “Murder with an axe, or something?”

“Y-yeah,” Ryan stuttered. He was taken aback slightly by the way that Shane treated the situation. He didn’t seem to be taking it seriously. It was different from his usual indifference or rather just lack of fear of the places they visited. It was more than just an act to show up Ryan, it was as if he was a different person. He wasn’t interested in the house, where normal Shane was at least decent enough to ask questions and play along even at the show’s most boring moments. “Murdered in their sleep, and no one knows who killed them.”

The group walked up onto the porch. Well, Shane and Ryan stood on the porch, while the camera crew filmed them from the pathway to the front door. Shane reached out and rested his fingers delicately on the doorknob. Ryan was about to ask what he was doing, when Shane’s hand darted out and jabbed him in the ribs. Ryan jumped, making an undignified squawk noise at the intrusive touch. David and Steve chuckled at the moment, but Ryan felt outright angry with Shane about it. Once they split up to investigate the house on their own, Ryan cornered Shane in the kitchen.

“Hey, what are you on about?” he snapped. He hadn’t meant to sound so forceful, but he didn’t like those kinds of touches. He didn’t like being toyed with and he knew something was up with Shane as it was. “You can’t go around making everyone feel bad for you, then jab them in the ribs like it’s all a joke.”

“Ryan, jeez, just  _ chill _ ,” Shane said. He put his hands up, but his eyes flashed dangerously. “Can’t handle a little teasing?”

Ryan was speechless for a moment. Then he shoved Shane backwards. He stumbled, but ultimately looked amused. “Just don’t  _ touch  _ me, okay?”

Ryan practically stormed out of the kitchen to look around some more. He would have loved to stay far away from Shane if all possible. He just couldn’t handle this behavior right now. Just the other day, even though Shane had been acting distant, he had still been Shane. Smiling, glowing, happy Shane, if not a little more exhausted than usual. Receiving his smile was like being handed an armful of puppies. It was sunshine peeking through clouds, a rainbow after rain. Shane sent butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, not fear. There was something primal about how Shane held himself now. The change was so drastic, he wondered if anyone else had noticed. Of course, David and Steve had said stuff about him just being stressed, but this was arguably more than stress. He tried to think about all the things that the websites he’d visited said. Self-harm, sleeplessness, lack of appetite, uncharacteristic outbursts, aggression, and,  _ and _ ?

Wasn’t the demon that killed those people at the Franklin Mansion some kind of sex demon? What had it been, a demon of lust? Surely, it was more than that. Those bodies had been stabbed, brutally murdered. Although, the police hadn’t ruled out group suicide, which was not unheard of, especially within cults and people who dabbled in “black magic”.

If there was a demon possessing Shane, and it was a demon of lust or sex or whatever, then what did it want with him?

Did it—want to—to—

Ryan shook the thought from his mind, although it didn’t leave him entirely. He knew that it was a possibility to consider, that if Shane made any out of character advances, he might take a second look at them. Then again, he could just be grasping at straws. This could all be a coincidence, the deaths, the demon sigil. Maybe it was just a freak accident, what happened in Franklin Castle to those people. Maybe they did commit suicide as a group. 

If it had been a demon that killed those people, then why hadn’t it escaped then, when it had the chance? Why didn’t it spare one person to get out of the house? Well, spare is a loose definition of the term. Ryan was sure that being a meat puppet to a demon wouldn’t be classically compared to being merciful or better than just being murdered. Why would the demon have waited so long, though, and why pick Shane? He figured that maybe he just didn’t want to ask any hard questions about Shane’s behavior. Maybe Shane was just changing, and Ryan didn’t like it.

After they had their chances to explore, they met together back in the living room and commenced with the episode.

“On June 10 th , 1912, Mary Peckham goes outside at approximately 5am to hang her laundry. She lives next door to the Moore’s, and is a friend of theirs. She expects to see them up to tend to their land fairly early, so when 7am rolls around and the house remains still, she goes to investigate,” Ryan explained. “She approaches the residence and knocks on the door. It’s unusually quiet, especially since she knew that the Moore’s were home at the time. She tries the door, but it’s locked. At this point, she decides that it would be best to contact the homeowner’s brother Ross Moore. He tries to rouse the Moore’s as well, and when it fails he produces a key that opens the front door.”

Ryan paused, taking in a soft breath. He could feel Shane standing close to him, eyes on him, an intensity that made him feel hot. Like he was under a magnifying glass. 

“Ross entered the residence and headed straight to his brother’s bedroom. He opened the door and immediately saw the bloody bodies of the family, which prompted him to immediately leave and tell Mary to get the sheriff.” He said.

Ryan explained the rest without interruption, even in places where he was expecting Shane to say something, like he always did. He went over the suspects, and possible theories, and all the information. Shane only said something when Ryan paused long enough to make the silence awkward, and even then, it was forced and usually just an offhand observation.

They soon moved onto their investigation part of the filming, where they looked around in the most active rooms and tried to provoke a spirit response.

“So now, we’re going to provoke one of the spirits here,” Ryan explained. He didn’t like this part that much, so it wasn’t the most fun for him. This was where Shane usually jumped in to lighten things up. To his surprise, Shane did jump in, but not exactly how he’d of liked.

“Come out, coward,” Shane challenged, and there was an undertone to his voice that sounded angry and vicious. “Ryan wants to see a little ghostie. I know you’re there, I can feel you moving.”

Ryan felt his blood run cold at his tone. He made a face of absolute horror at the threatening nature of the jibe, the knowing authority in his voice. Ryan’s instinct was to shy away. He broke out in a cold sweat.

“Hey, don’t mess around like that, dude,” he said, and he definitely sounded nervous, even to his own ears. “Don’t call them  _ cowards _ , they were murdered in their own home.”

Shane crossed his arms and made a low hum-like noise in the back of his throat. “I’m not talking to them, Ryan. I’m talking to the darker spirit in this house.”

“The—the darker spirit?” Ryan swallowed. He glanced at the cameramen, and they looked just as nervous.

“Did you know that once you die, if your soul is judged to be evil, you spend eternity as a spirit in the place where you caused the most suffering.” Shane said, matter-of-factly. “By that logic, the murderer must be among us, and he’s going to  _ get you _ !”

Shane lunged at Ryan, but stopped himself before he had the chance to touch him. Ryan shouted, crouching down and cowering away from him. There was a moment of absolute, deafening silence, before Shane lit up with deep laughter. He moved off camera and Ryan straightened up, looking both horrified as well as pissed. Feeling bold, he flipped off the camera, then flipped off Shane’s general direction. Steve shot him a concerned look, and Ryan brushed it off, if only to appear a little more put together than what he actually felt.

They got done with the main portion of their filming at 8pm. The next part was filming them and the house overnight. Traditionally, the film crew slept in the car, and it would be the same this time as well, no matter how badly Ryan didn’t want to be so exclusively alone with Shane. They packed up their things, ate some of their snacks from the road trip, and finally settled in to go to sleep. The house was ancient and fragile, and provided a lot of ambient noise as people moved about it, as well as when the heat from the sun disappeared into the cold night. He kept telling himself that the house was just settling, the house was made of wood and as horrible as it sounds, it breathes with the changes in temperature. It was still creepy, even after his desperate attempts to feel comfortable.

So, if Shane  _ was  _ possessed, he was probably going to kill him. No, he was going to torture him first, before slowly killing him with a knife. He couldn’t say he was excited. His chest grew tight with fear and reluctance. He could call this all off, but what would that do if Shane was possessed? He had to do something.  _ Anything _ . 

As soon as Steve and David left the house, the place fell into a dark, cold silence. The two of them deep in their own thoughts, in their own sleeping bags. After a moment, Ryan could hear that there was some kind of muttering coming from Shane’s general direction. It almost sounded like very soft, very muffled arguing. Ryan curled deeper into his sleeping bag, resorting to the age old ‘ _ blankets block out everything _ ’ thinking from his childhood. Of course, this time he wasn’t going to get off scot free. Shane wasn’t some kind of dark apparition that would disappear with a flick of the lights. He was physical, tangible.

There was lots of shifting coming from Shane, and muttering, and it made Ryan’s heart pound against his chest. Suddenly, it stopped, and despite himself, he sat up and faced Shane. In the dark, he could barely see the other man, but there was a strip of moonlight from a window that trickled in and fell across Shane’s face, illuminating his right eye and the corner of his mouth.

“Shane?” he asked. He felt small in this space, small and vulnerable. In many ways, he was prey staring down the predator. If his conclusion was correct, and Shane was possessed, he was in no way equipped to take on such a thing.

“Ryan,” Shane said, and it was deep and thick, sending shivers all over his body. Shane reached out and grabbed Ryan’s sleeping bag, effectively dragging him closer. They were fairly close now, not even an arms-length away. Shane cupped the back of Ryan’s head delicately with his hand. He leaned in, but stopped just as their breath mingled together. Ryan could practically taste him. 

“I know this isn’t you,” Ryan whispered. He heard the other man’s breath catch, just barely. He stared into Shane’s dark eyes, darker than he’d ever seen them. They appeared almost black, like deep pits, like he was about to fall in. “I know you aren’t Shane.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Shane said back, but his voice sounded different, like there was another person in his body. He growled, and the sound gave him chills. “All I know is that you would gladly  _ fuck  _ Shane, and that’s right were my business is,  _ baby _ .”

Ryan tried to pull away, but the grip on his neck was very solid, and not budging. Shane pushed Ryan down onto his back and climbed on top of him, pressing their bodies together. Ryan could feel every inch of Shane against him, could breathe in his scent, knew his warmth like it was his own. He felt himself breathing heavier, out of both fear and arousal. He knew this wasn’t right. A thousand alarms were going off in his head. Shane shifted his hand to hold Ryan’s neck at the side. He used his thumb to push Ryan’s chin back, exposing his throat.

“I can feel him inside of me,” Shane said, and Ryan knew then that he was officially talking to someone else, that this wasn’t Shane at all. This was the demon holding him down, barely expending any energy. “He’s screaming to let you go, to let him in, but why would I do that?”

Ryan tried to squirm away, but it only drew a pleased groan from Shane’s lips.

“Yes, struggle more.” He laughed. His other hand pulled hard on Ryan’s shirt, tearing the seams open. “It drives me  _ crazy _ .”

Next to where they had been sleeping had been a camera bag. It wasn’t much, but if he could reach it, maybe he could manage to stun the demon, get away somehow. Shane’s hand traveled slowly down his side, exciting his sensitive rib-cage. He sucked in a breath, sharp and unhappy. He would need a distraction, though, if he were to get the bag. He watched Shane’s face, the smirk there that marred it, an ugly façade. He drew his tongue over his lips, and saw that Shane’s eyes followed the movement. An idea popped into his head.

“Shane,” he breathed, then leaned up and captured the other man’s lips in a kiss. Something hot and needy blossomed in his stomach, making it hard to focus. He tried to remind himself that he was kissing a demon, but it hardly helped. He lifted one hand to gently brush his fingers against Shane’s scratchy stubble, feeling the unshaven hairs against his smooth skin. He had always thought that Shane looked a bit more attractive with a little hair on his jaw. 

He peeked open an eye and saw that Shane had closed his eyes into the kiss, so he searched around with his other hand, until his fingers found something that felt like the strap of a camera bag. He only had one chance at this. Curling a chunk of it around his hand for a good grip, he gave Shane’s bottom lip one last fleeting kiss, before he brought the bag up with all his strength into the side of Shane’s head. He toppled over in surprise and hurt, a disturbing growl of frustration quickly following. Ryan jumped to his feet, still clutching the camera bag, poised to hit him again.

“Think you’re clever, boy?” Shane growled. He was bracing himself on his arms. “No matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to get rid of me so easily.”

“Let Shane go,” Ryan demanded shakily. It only provoked the thing in Shane to chuckle darkly.

“I’d rather die,” he said softly. Shane stumbled to his feet, and there was something in his hand that Ryan couldn’t quite make out. Something glinted in the low light, and Ryan tried to see what it was, but it was too dark. Shane braced himself against the far wall, widening the gap between them. “Shane has been such an accommodating host this whole time. I’ve been trying to get him to just work with me, though he wasn’t too agreeable when I told him to fuck his best friend.”

“ _ Stop _ ,” Ryan said. He only spared a quick glance around for a more suitable weapon, and didn’t see anything he could use. “Let him go, you monster.”

“Oh, I’ll let him go,” Shane said, and raised the thing in his hand to his own throat. “Our little skeptic here’s been oh so tired lately. Maybe it’s time he takes a nap.”

Once the object had been raised, Ryan could clearly see it from the light through the window. It was a pocket razor knife. Ryan’s breath caught in his chest. The blade of the knife was pressed against Shane’s neck, right to the left of his adam’s apple. Shane’s expression was twisted in a vile smirk. He pressed the knife a little harder and a single line of blood dripped down into his collar.

“Wait,” Ryan said, stepping closer. “Shane, if you’re in there–” 

Shane laughed, and it sounded wrong, off. His eyes appeared a bit more amber than before. “ You think that’ll work? I’ll cut your friend’s throat open right here, and you won’t be able to stop me. Don’t believe me?”

Ryan swallowed nervously. He watched Shane’s hand and looked at the distance between them. He didn’t even have his phone in his pocket, because he was sure that he would need to be calling the ambulance before the end of this. Shane was visibly shaking, his arm that held the knife a little wobbly, although it stayed up. Maybe Shane was fighting for control. 

Ryan suddenly dashed forward. Things slowed down to a crawl. Shane pressed the knife into his neck and started cutting; he got a fairly deep gash in before Ryan had grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm away from his neck. He twisted Shane’s hand until he heard a distinct crack and the other man shouted in anger and pain, dropping the knife. Ryan kicked at Shane’s ankle and it knocked him off balance, allowing the shorter man to drag him to the ground. Shane’s head banged against the wood floor. The move should have knocked him out, but he persisted. 

“You think you can beat me out of your friend?” he snarled. Ryan was sitting on Shane’s chest, one hand on his throat to both keep him down and in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “You know this is hurting him more than it’s hurting me.”

Ryan drew his fist back and decked him in the face. Shane went limp after that. After everything had stopped, Ryan felt reality come back like slamming into a brick wall. 

“S-Shane,” he stuttered, his hands shaking as his friend’s blood pooled in the hand that was around his neck. “Oh god, oh god--” 

Ryan hurried over to his things and dug out his cell phone. He dialed 9-1-1. 

“P-please help,” Ryan begged. “My friend is bleeding--”


	7. oh no, this isn't how our story ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got too high again  
> Realized I can't not be with you  
> Or be just your friend
> 
> I love you to death  
> But I just can't, I just can't pretend  
> We weren't lovers first
> 
> Confidants but never friends  
> Were we ever friends?

_It’s kind of like being locked out of your phone._

_You know, you try your password three times, each time missing a number, clicking one number too many times, drawing the wrong connections, mixing up the patterns._

_Then your phone screen says try again later. Except, imagine it said try again never._

_Falling down into the dark. Falling past doors. Falling through the cracks in the floor. You meant to fix those, you remember, but only vaguely. You meant to hold on tighter, you remember, but it’s foggy._

_It’s kind of like drifting in a sensory deprivation tank._

_It’s cold, it’s warm, you feel every cell in your body, but you also feel nothing. The skin on your fingers wrinkle in saturation. You can’t feel it, but you know it’s happening. The walls feel like they’re closing in on you. You know it’s not happening, but you can feel it._

_What’s the last thing you remember?_

_There was a room. An old room, a living room, there’s an old cast iron wood stove. It’s beyond repair, now just used as decoration, but you remember it. There’s a single window in the room. There’s dust on the floor. There’s also sleeping bags on the floor. You’re sitting up in one. There’s someone sitting in the other one._

_Ryan._

_No, go farther back. This morning, you didn’t wake up. You drag your eyelids open, heavy as lead, and see your own body walking around without you. There’s a voice in your ears. It tells you to go back to sleep. It’s drinking black tea. You’re drinking black tea. It pours down your throat and warms your body, but you don’t feel that warmth. It’s like you’re standing next to it._

_What next? You’re looking into deep, brown eyes. They’re Ryan’s eyes. They’re so comforting. Too comforting, your body thinks, and looks away. You want to look back. You want to shake yourself. Your hand shakes. Was that you or your body? You slip back into sleep._

_You fight it, but it’s hard. It’s like a heavy weight is crushing your chest. What’s the last thing you remember? Fire. Blood. Your body burns, but you feel cold. There’s a sound, like a siren. Maybe it is a siren. Muffled voices fill your head._

_The static noise gets louder. It grows and grows and grows. And then all of a sudden._

_It’s quiet._

 

“Can you explain what happened again?”

Ryan rubbed his eyes with one of his hands. The one that wasn’t covered in blood. That one was held up against his chest, curled into a half fist. His feeble attempt to stop the tears wasn’t working. His throat was feeling tight, his chest strange. He just wanted to go in and see Shane, but he wasn’t allowed. He wasn’t ready or something. It was bullshit.

“I- I already told you, he- he—” Ryan started. He tried to clear his throat. “I was already awake. He said some things, then he- then he pulled out a knife. He- he said he was going to kill himself.”

Ryan covered his face briefly. It was hard to leave out most of the story. The assault, the threat, the demon. He couldn’t exactly tell the police that, though, could he? This was the best story he could come up with. That Shane had tried to kill himself, and Ryan had to wrestle the knife from him and knock him out.

“Okay, okay,” the police officer let up. He closed the notebook he was writing in and hooked his pen on his chest pocket. “We might follow up with more questions at a later date. Is that okay?”

Ryan couldn’t meet his eyes. He nodded hurriedly. The officer had him write down his phone number and wished him well as he left. After a moment, David and Steve came in and sat down next to Ryan. He hugged himself, letting the tears simply fall down his face. His friends gave him worried looks.

“Ryan? Are you okay?” David asked. He figured it was just a gut reaction question. Of course, he wasn’t okay. He just had to watch his best friend nearly kill himself. He knew it wasn’t really Shane who did that, but the image was still burned into his mind. The blood still caked his hand.

“Of course, he isn’t okay.” Steve hissed. He placed a hand on Ryan’s back. Ryan closed his eyes and curled in on himself.

“Hey, everything’s gonna be okay, okay?” David said. Steve rubbed small circles in Ryan’s back.

“Yeah, Shane’s going to be okay. They said it wasn’t a bad wound.” Steve said. Ryan just felt wave after wave of feelings hit him hard, and they didn’t stop. In fact, his friend’s comforting just made it harder. It felt difficult to breathe, hiccupping between soft sobs.

The hospital had contacted Shane’s parents already. It would be at least five hours before they could fly out there. Ryan had heard this through David when he’d called Shane’s emergency contact. After about the third time that they asked to see Shane and were rejected, Ryan got up abruptly and practically ran to the bathroom. There was no one else in the bathroom, and he was grateful for that. He walked up to the sink and mirrors and turned the hot water on. It poured, and the sound filled the room, and soon soft steam rose from the sink. He held out his hand with Shane’s blood on it. He hadn’t let anyone touch him or look at him after the ambulance and cops showed up. Not even after they took Shane away, he just hopped into the backseat of David’s car and they followed him to the hospital.

They questioned him, of course, and he answered the best he could. He had to make up a story of Shane’s attempted suicide in order to make any sense, and now he felt like he was maybe regretting it. How would Shane handle the situation after he wakes up? It brought fresh tears to his eyes. _If_ he wakes up. _If_ he’s not still possessed.

Ryan stuck his bloodied hand under the steaming hot water. It burned, but the red ran off, the blood slowly draining down the sink. He shook, as if all the warmth in his body had been sucked out. Once the blood was gone, he let his hand stay under the water for a few more moments, before he turned it off. His skin was blotchy and pink where the hot water had burned him, but at least he was clean.

No, he wasn’t clean. He was a wreck. A complete mess. Every emotion and feeling that was all tidy and wrapped up, stored away to never speak of again, had tumbled out onto the floor. Everything was exposed, all his wounds reopened. He doubted that even if Shane was going to come out of this okay, they would ever be the same again. Their friendship was over. It had been murdered, chopped to pieces, by this thing in their lives. The demon. He wished now that it had been him instead of Shane.

He stared into the mirror, and it was like he’d seen a ghost. He was pale, sleep deprived. He looked at his watch. Nearly 3 am now. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Sara. He knew they weren’t the closest, but he figured he might as well let her know about Shane.

The phone rang four times, then a groggy voice answered.

“Ryan? Do you know what time it is?” he heard her say sleepily.

“Yeah, I do,” he said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the words got stuck.

“Well? What is it?” she asked. Her voice sounded like a combination of annoyed and worried. Like she couldn’t decide which, yet.

“Shane—” he managed, but he couldn’t get the rest out. He felt the tears coming back. “Shane is—”

“Ryan? Are you okay?” she asked. “Did something happen to Shane?”

“Y-yeah, Sara,” he said, his voice shook. “He’s in the hospital, we’re in the hospital.”

“Oh my god? Is everyone okay?”

Tears were falling down his face again. He let out an exasperated sigh. He thought he was done crying by now.

“Shane’s okay, I think,” he said. He clenched his teeth. “We’re not allowed to see him yet. I think they’re still checking him out and stuff.”

“What happened?” she asked. She sounded very awake now. He wondered if he should have even bothered to call her. She wouldn’t be able to do anything anyways, unless she flew out here, too. But that would be a waste. Hopefully, Shane would be stable enough to be released soon.

Well, he would probably have to pass a psych evaluation test, right? Would they keep him longer after that?

“There was an accident.” Ryan explained. “He was holding a knife and I had to wrestle it from him—” he cut himself off, since it felt like he couldn’t breathe, thinking about what had happened again.

“Oh my god.” Sara whispered. “Should I come out there?”

Ryan took several moments to collect himself. He felt himself crying, but he couldn’t stop it. “N-no, you don’t need to. We’re going to try and get him home soon. His parents will be here in five hours, probably.”

“I can’t believe it,” she said quietly. “Did you- do you think it was—?”

“I- I—” he stuttered. He couldn’t tell her what he knew. That it wasn’t a real suicide attempt. That it was the demon controlling him. He wished he could. He wished anyone would believe him. “Just please, don’t tell anyone else. I don’t think he- I think he was just confused. I figured you should know, though. You two are… close.”

“No close enough, apparently.”

After they finished talking, Ryan left the bathroom. When he came out, David and Steve were picking up their things.

“Where are you guys going?” he asked, panicking. David gave Ryan a sad look.

“Ryan, we’re just going to get a room in the hotel across the street, okay? We’re tired, and we can’t do anything right now.” He said. Steven nodded, picking up a bag.

“We- What if he wakes up? What then? They’re gonna let us in, we just need to wait a little longer—”

“Ryan, please.” Steve interrupted. “We’re all worried, but we need to sleep. You need to sleep. He’s going to be fine.”

“H-how can you say that?” Ryan asked, his voice was low and harsh. “I’m staying _here_.”

“Okay,” David agreed. “We’re getting a room with two double beds, so whenever you feel like coming back…”

Ryan shook in anger and fear, but nodded anyways. He watched his two friends leave, and he sat down in the waiting room, this time alone. Another hour passed silently. Ryan had his phone plugged in and sitting atop a stack of magazines. He watched a television that was mounted on the wall, but muted. There was a commercial about grief and grief counseling playing. _It’s hard to lose a loved one…_ the subtitles read. Ryan looked towards the hallway that he’d seen Shane disappear down.

A few minutes later, a nurse walked out into the lobby.

“Ryan Bergara?” she asked. He was instantly alert, moving to stand immediately.

“Yes, that’s me,” he answered. She smiled softly at him.

“Your friend is in stable condition. Would you like to see him?” she asked. Ryan nodded hurriedly. She lead him down the hall and to a quaint little room. The room had two beds, but the only one that was filled was the one nearest to the window. Lying there was Shane. He hurried over, but refrained from touching the bed or jousting any of the equipment. Shane was breathing rhythmically, looking content. He was pale, especially with the white hospital gown and white bedsheets, and the bruises on his face. His neck was patched up, and he was hooked up to some wires that would probably alert a nurse when he woke.

“Surprisingly, we’ve seen this kind of thing before,” she said gently. “Although, we were glad the cut wasn’t worse. I know it must feel like you’re to blame for this, but you saved his life.”

Ryan didn’t take his eyes off of Shane, but he nodded to let her know he heard what she said. The nurse brought a chair up next to the bed and Ryan dropped into it. He wrung his hands, feeling nervous and tired.

“Is it okay if I stay here?” he asked her. His head was finally feeling tired after all that. He felt the anxiety from not knowing just drain out of him. Shane was okay. He was breathing. It was going to be fine. The nurse nodded and left the room. After she left, Ryan leaned forward, resting his arms on the bed near Shane’s arm. He wondered if Shane was cold, and laid his head down on his arms. His thoughts quickly evaporated, and he was soon asleep.

He did not dream.

 

_Shane opens his eyes to pitch black darkness. He’s standing, he knows that. The air around him is cold. He shivers. He feels like there’s another presence with him, so he calls out._

_“Who’s there?” he asks. “Ryan?”_

_Suddenly, there’s a light, and it grows until it’s blinding. Shane shields his eyes. When he can see again, he’s standing in a hospital room. At the end of the room there’s a bed near the window. He can see someone lying in it. As he gets closer, the details fill in. The man in the bed is him, and there’s Ryan sitting in a chair, leaning on the bed sleeping. Ryan looks awful, like he’d been crying, or like he hadn’t slept in a few days. He looks at himself, and notices how pale he is. There’s a dark bruise forming on his face. It makes him touch his own face unconsciously. He looks at the window again, and now there’s a shadow figure standing there, looking outside._

_“Anael,” he spits. The shadow turns, and those signature gold eyes stare back blankly._

_“You know, you’re really something,” the demon growls. It looks weak, it’s form flickering. It’s voice echoes in the space. “Everything in you is pushing me out. You were so weak before, where did you suddenly find your resolve, boy?”_

_Shane narrows his eyes, but then he looks back at Ryan and he softens. “I didn’t find it, I just had to realize it was right here all along.”_

_Anael’s eyes glow, the light engulfs the shadow, and the next moment, it’s gone. Shane feels light. So light that his body starts to float up. He flies through the ceiling and back into darkness. Though the darkness is becoming brighter, the grey fading into navy, fading into red and gold. It’s a sunrise. Shane feels his body warming up._

_He looks back down at the hospital. It sits idly beneath his rising form._

_“Time to wake up.”_

 

When Shane’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing he saw was a dusty, popcorn ceiling. He took a long breath, and all the pain he was supposed to feel before came rushing in. He groaned, realizing that he hurt all over.

He felt something shift next to him. He turned his head and saw that Ryan was sitting there, his arms on the bed, but his head up. Their eyes met. Ryan sucked in a quick breath and his eyes started watering. Shane felt himself tearing up, but he wasn’t sure why.

“Is it really you?” Ryan whispered. Shane was silent for a long moment, and then he felt the first tear fall down his face and he nodded. Ryan sniffed, wiped his eyes, and hugged his friend, wrapping his arms around Shane’s chest and resting his head at his collar. Shane lifted his arms, draping one over the back of Ryan’s shoulders, one hand tangled in his hair.

“I was so scared.” Ryan said, his voice still quiet. Shane ran his fingers through Ryan’s short hair. He felt warm, his heart pounded awkwardly. He cleared his throat, but it felt dry and scratchy anyways.

“I was so lost,” he said. “I thought I was never going to see you again. I thought I was going to just drift off. I—I don’t even really remember what happened.”

Ryan shifted so that he could look at Shane’s face. The hand in his hair fell to the back of his neck.

“I told them—I told them that you tried to kill yourself.” He admitted, very quietly. “I couldn’t tell them—what really happened…”

“You know?” Shane said, his eyes widened slightly. Then he softened. Of course, Ryan knew. He was always the paranormal guy. Shane felt a hollowness in his chest. _So why didn’t he tell Ryan before?_

“I figured it out,” he managed to say through the tears. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have—done something! I could have _helped_ you!”

Ryan cupped Shane’s face. They were both crying messes at this point. Shane closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he sobbed. “What was I supposed to say? I didn’t _want_ it to be real. I just wanted everything to go back to normal.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said softly.

He rested his forehead against Shane’s. Shane felt his heart pound again. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but suddenly he leaned up and kissed Ryan. Just a little peck. Ryan drew in a short breath after. They looked into each other’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, too,” Shane said. Ryan leaned forward and kissed him again, rubbing his thumb against Shane’s temple gently. The kiss was soft and slow and sweet. Nothing rushed, just light and nice. They parted and after a beat Ryan moved away to sit back in his chair. They both blushed and laced their fingers together.

A moment later the nurse came in. She checked up on Shane and found that he’s healing properly.

“What do you remember?” she asked while taking his temperature. “You were out for a while.”

“I don’t remember much of yesterday at all.” He admitted. She moved back with the thermometer and jotted the temp down on a chart.

“Do you have a history of depression?” she asked. Shane hesitated.

“No, I’m normally fine. It’s just been recently that I feel…” he paused. “Different.”

She nodded. “We’re going to refer you to a therapist for when you go back home.” She hooked the chart on the end of the bed. “You can refuse treatment, but we would like for you to continue seeing a therapist for at least a month after we release you. You can choose once a week or twice a week sessions. They’ll work with your work schedule.”

Ryan was asked to leave momentarily when the police officers from before came in. They wanted to question Shane on his own. He sat up straight and made himself comfortable. He was still sore all over, and his neck hurt, but he could handle it. The nurse brought him a glass of water.

“We apologize if this seems kind of sudden, but we just wanted to clear up a few things.” The officer said. Shane shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll answer some questions.” He said. They asked him about yesterday. He could barely remember what happened, only vague recollections, but he answered as best he could. They asked if Ryan could have harmed him. He immediately said no. They asked if he remembered harming himself. He said yes, even though it was a foggy memory. They told him that the only finger prints on the knife were his own, and that they discovered a receipt for the knife at the house where it happened. The knife had been purchased at 3 am. Shane remembered only what he’d been doing _before_ he fell asleep, which was talking to Ryan before they went to bed. He didn’t remember waking up so early, or going to the gas station to purchase the knife, or anything after that.

“Do you have any idea why you wouldn’t remember?” the officer asked. He looked a little awkward. “Do you have a history of memory loss or drug use?”

Shane shook his head. “No, none of that.” He assured them. “Well, recently I’ve just been way more stressed out. Maybe it has something to do with that?”

The officers concluded the event as an accident. Shane was glad to have them gone. He was expecting to see Ryan come back in, but he was surprised to see his parents rush in.

“Shane, what happened?” His mother fretted. She brushed his stray hair from his face and kissed his forehead. His father stood awkwardly at his bedside, looking emotional. His mother gave him some space, but held his one hand tightly with both of hers.

“Guys, you came up here?” he asked. And it sounded silly of him to be surprised, but he was. The reality of the situation must not have sunken in yet.

“Of course, we did! We heard you were in the _hospital_!” she said. “They didn’t tell us much else! What happened to you? You look so beat up. You didn’t get mugged or something, did you? Honey, I told him these shoots could be dangerous!”

Shane felt his throat constrict. He couldn’t tell his parents what had happened. They would never look at him the same. He couldn’t let them feel like failures as parents. He’s sure it would be different if he’d actually done it. It seemed that the hospital hadn’t told them what had caused his injuries, so he went with the act.

“Yeah, it’s a shady town, I got jumped.” He managed. “You don’t need to worry. The police handled it. I’m just a little banged up is all.”

His father crossed his arms. “It’s these weird small towns you go to. They don’t always like newcomers.” His mother nodded in agreement.

“Maybe you should take a break from filming.” She said softly. Shane shook his head.

“Mom, it’s fine.” He sighed. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got Ryan. I’ve got the crew. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

She looked skeptical, as did his father, but they let it slide. The three of them started chatting and catching up after that. He hadn’t seen them in a few months. He called them every once in awhile, shoot them a text when he travelled, but otherwise he was really busy. And they were always going on trips together. It was nice to talk, even though it was in such a weird situation.

While he was listening to one of his mother’s stories about a trip to the Bahamas, Shane’s mind wandered back to earlier. Ryan and him, they had- they had kissed. No, well, yes, but—he had kissed Ryan first. He searched himself and found that he couldn’t sense Anael there at all. Was it possible that the demon was gone? Was that dream he had of Anael vanishing real? What had happened to him while Anael was possessing him? He felt like something had awakened in him. Something strange. It was small, and easy to ignore, but had it always been there?

In that moment, he had _wanted_ to kiss Ryan. He wanted to pull him close and feel his warmth and kiss him gently. He had been treated so roughly the past few weeks, he just wanted someone to be soft with him. But why had he kissed Ryan? He hadn’t wanted that before, had he? Maybe this was a build up of all the touches, and mock flirting, and late nights, all melding into a desire to be closer.

But it hadn’t felt like desire. Or like the kind of desire he felt when Anael had forced him to feel it. It wasn’t hot, or heavy, or urgent. It was airy, like cotton candy, sweet, and subtle.

Maybe this was just how he was. It wasn’t like he suddenly wanted to date Ryan. It wasn’t like he wanted to have sex with Ryan. He just- wanted- _something_. He wasn’t sure what that was. He would have to discuss it with Ryan, probably. Maybe he would have to do some research on sexuality.

After his parents left, his nurse came in and unhooked him from the machines, doing some last check ups and bringing in his clothes.

“Your friends brought these.” She said. She handed him his clothes that he had packed for the trip. “They’re out in the waiting room. You can change and meet them out there.”

Shane smiled and thanked her. She left him to change. He looked at his clothes and suddenly thought about how his pajamas probably were ruined with blood stains. Should he keep blood stained pajamas? Probably not, even though they might look cool. He changed, only pulling at the bandage on his neck once, and met Ryan and the others in the waiting room.

“Hey guys,” he said. They all looked relieved to see him back in his regular clothes.

“You’re already looking better, dude.” David said. He clapped a hand on Shane’s shoulder. Ryan watched from a few steps away, smiling slightly.

Together, they packed up all their things into their car. They didn’t bother shooting the rest of the episode. That would just have to wait. Shane was sure the fans would understand if it was delayed. They would probably only release some details about the crew facing major setbacks, so nothing too intimate, but hopefully enough for them to be reasonable.

Shane wanted to drive back, but Ryan wouldn’t have it. He refused to let him drive in his condition. Shane assured him he was fine, but Ryan wasn’t convinced. He would be driving all the way back. It was nearly noon by the time they had everything sorted out to leave. It would be a really long drive back.

After about two hours on the road, one bathroom break, and a pit stop, Shane and Ryan fell into a weirdly tense silence. Shane stared out the window and counted birds on the telephone wires. After a few moments, Ryan spoke up.

“So, what are we now?” he asked. Shane looked back over to him. He noticed Ryan’s grip tighten on the steering wheel. “You know, cause of what happened. We kissed. Or, you kissed me, and I kissed you.”

Shane blinked, quiet in thought. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he cleared his throat, “I’m really not sure what we are.” He admitted.

“Well, uh, have you ever dated before?” he asked. Shane was quick to answer that, though.

“I had dates to prom before. One time I bought a girl coffee.” He said. “One time I went to lunch with a guy, it was just us, it kinda felt like a date.”

“Wait, you’ve never been on a date?” Ryan asked. He glanced over to make sure Shane wasn’t pulling his leg. Shane looked contemplative. “ _Seriously_?”

“Uh, yeah, actually.” Shane said. “I never really felt the need to, uh, ask anyone out or go on a date or anything.”

“Have you ever had sex before?” Ryan asked, still surprised. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that if it’s too personal.”

“No, it’s not,” he replied. “Because I’ve never had sex either. I’m just not into it, as I said.”

“Wow,” Ryan said, but he seemed to catch himself from blurting anything out. Honestly, Shane was expecting the _what is wrong with you?_ line by now, so he was impressed that Ryan seemed to be taking it well. “So, why did you kiss me then?”

Wow, that was a good question.

Shane opened his mouth again and found himself speechless. He wasn’t sure. He just wanted to. He just, really, wanted to. He’d never felt it before, the urge to kiss and be kissed. He had always been indifferent to the idea, but in the moment, it was all he could think about. He wanted to kiss Ryan now, but that might be dangerous, because he was driving.

“I—I honestly don’t have an answer for that. I just wanted to,” he said. “It’s weird. I always thought kissing was gross. I still kinda think it’s gross, but…”

Shane hesitated, and Ryan glanced over again. “But with you, it feels different. Ever since those things happened. The possession, the fear. It’s like something inside me is different. It’s hard to tell if it’s something _I_ want, or if it’s something left behind by… _by_ _it_.”

“Oh,” Ryan said, like he just remembered that Shane had been possessed by a demon for a while. He had to watch Shane hurt himself. Maybe he was already trying to repress the memory. “Is it gone?”

Shane was silent for a few moments. The car hummed as it sped down the highway. “I think so.”

 

It was 4 am by the time they arrived back to Ryan’s house. David and Steve headed to the office to drop off the filming supplies. Ryan and Shane brought everything inside and ended up in the kitchen.

“Popcorn?” Ryan asked.

“Popcorn.” Shane said, nodding. They popped some popcorn on the stove and settled down together on the couch for a movie. Ryan chose some new, bad, horror film that had just been added to Netflix. They both laughed at the bad dialogue and shouted at the character’s stupid decisions. The ate their popcorn, pressed together under a blanket. Shane had an arm around Ryan’s shoulders.

After that was over, and their popcorn was done, they put on something mindless, and simply cuddled together on the couch.

“Do we wanna talk about it some more?” Ryan asked. He looked up expectantly at Shane. Shane rubbed Ryan’s shoulder.

“What part, us kind of being a thing now, or the demon?” he said. Ryan sat up straight. He smiled softly at Shane.

“Well I dunno, which do you wanna talk about first?” He brushed some hair out of Shane’s face. Shane sighed.

“I would rather never talk about Anael again.” Shane said. Ryan suddenly laughed.

“ _Anael_ _?_   What kind of name is that?” he giggled. Shane raised his eyebrows.

“The name of a _sex demon_  or something.” Shane said. “Seriously, he wanted us to bang.”

“ _What_ _!_ ” Ryan exclaimed. “I can’t believe we got caught up in all that...”

Shane watched Ryan laugh, it made him feel warm and fuzzy. “Eh, let’s not talk about him anymore.” He ran a hand lazily through Ryan’s hair and smiled. Ryan hummed in agreement.

“What about us, then?” he asked. Ryan leaned forward, and they were close enough that their noses bumped lightly. “Would you believe me if I told you that I always thought you were fairly attractive?”

“Oh no, what caught your eye first, my second hand dad jokes?” he asked, then he grinned. “Or my quick wit?”

Ryan broke down into giggles and snorted. Shane laughed at that as well. When their laughs trailed off, Ryan said, “I think it was your teacher clothes.”

“My teacher clothes?” Shane asked. He grinned. “Oh, are you hot for teacher?”

“No!” he argued. Although, he blushed, too. “I think it’s just like, such a cute look, especially with your glasses. And then I found out you were funny, and it went downhill from there.”

“See,” Shane started. “I don’t really see people as attractive, but I did think you were very pleasant to be around. Especially since you always laughed at all my jokes. You have a very nice smile.”

Ryan blushed and covered his mouth with his hand. Shane laughed. “Don’t cover it up!”

They laughed for a bit and then settled back into lounging. Ryan leaned into Shane gently. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. Shane hummed a yes, and then they exchanged a little peck. There was a beat of silence where they just sat close, their breath mingling, and then Shane leaned in to reignite the kiss. Ryan grabbed the front of Shane’s shirt, while Shane ran his fingers through Ryan’s hair again. He seemed to really like messing with Ryan’s short hair. It always seemed so neat, it was fun to play with it, make it a mess. Ryan opened his mouth into the kiss, and Shane cautiously did the same. They kissed for a little longer, before breaking apart again, each breathing a little harder.

“Uhh,” Shane was the first to make a noise. He looked flushed, and he felt weird, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. Ryan watched his face.

“Wh-what did you think?” he asked. Shane brought a hand up to his own lips. They were still wet, and warm. Weird. It was weird.

“Weird.” He said, finally. Ryan let out a soft chuckle.

“Bad?” he asked. Shane shook his head.

“Not bad, just weird.” He said honestly. “It kinda feels like I’m trying to eat you, or something.”

“What!” Ryan dissolved into giggles at that comparison. “That’s such a weird observation!”

“Well what would you compare it to?” He asked. Ryan leaned back onto the couch.

“Um…” he paused for a long moment. “Well, you see…”

“I’m right!” Shane said. “It’s kind of like eating each other’s faces! It’s weird!”

“ _Listen_ ,” Ryan said quickly. “It’s a normalized behavior—”

“Ryan, no, Ryan, listen,” Shane paused. “ _I_   _don’t care_.”

They both started laughing again.

“Does that mean no kisses?” Ryan asked after they’d calmed down a bit. Shane ran a hand through his own hair, messing it up more than it already was.

“Well,” he said. “Maybe not _no kisses_ , just, limited kisses.”

“What about sex?” Ryan joked. He poked Shane’s side. Shane flinched, because he was ticklish there.

“Well, the thing about that is,” he started, pausing for a second. The mood seemed to get a little more serious all of a sudden. “I’m really not sure I—”

“Hey, hey,” Ryan interrupted. He wrapped his arms around Shane’s torso. “It’s okay. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to. You know that, right? I—I really like you, Shane. I want you to feel good about us.”

Shane blushed at that, and smiled fondly. “Well, I really like you, too. And you already make me feel really good.” He snuggled into Ryan, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s shoulders in return. “I’m just still figuring things out.”

“That’s okay, we can figure it out together,” Ryan said, closing his eyes. Shane smiled, and placed a kiss on Ryan’s forehead.

“Yeah. We can.”

It had been a long road. He would have to explain things to people, go to therapy, work things out. He would have to move on from this thing, the demon, but it was going to be okay. He had Ryan, and Sara, and his other amazing friends. He was going to be okay.

They were all going to be okay.

 

~~-end-~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo, just as a disclaimer so that people don’t come for me, Shane’s sexuality in this fic is supposed to be Asexual/Demiromantic. Descriptions and such are based off of my personal experiences as this identity. 
> 
> also, thanks for reading!!! :) you guys are the best!!!

**Author's Note:**

> constructive criticism is welcome. especially for grammar and continuity. this fic is un-beta'd, so lmk if you see something fishy that can be easily fixed.


End file.
